'sF'#*<Z' 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

PRESENTED  BY 

PROF.  CHARLES  A.  KOFOID  AND 
MRS.  PRUDENCE  W.  KOFOID 


V 

77 


WILD    SCENES 


SONG-BIRDS. 


BY    C.    W.    WEJBBER, 

AUTHOR   OF    "  HUNTER-NATURALIST — WILD    BCBNE8   AND   WILD   HUNTBBB, 
ETC.,  ETC. 


NEW  YORK: 
LEAVITT    AND     ALLEN, 

379    BROADWAY. 

1858. 


TO     THE     MEMORY     OF 


W37 

Bu-P 


HER    NEW   DAUGHTER 
HAS     STRIVEN    WORTHILY    TO     PERPETUATE, 

®  Ijis    Book, 

THE    FIRST    FLOWER    OF    OUR    LIVES, 
IS    INSCRIBED. 


C  ONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

Page 
NATURE  AND  HER  HARMONIES, 1 


CHAPTER  II. 

BOYHOOD  AND  BIRDS MOCKING-BIRDS  IN  A  STRANGE  NEST,  ...       54 

CHAPTER  III. 

MY  HUMMING-BIRDS, 98 

CHAPTER  IV. 

SONG  OF  THE  CHILDREN  ABOUT  SPRING, 124 

H 
CHAPTER  V. 

DRAGGING  THE  SEINE, 134 

CHAPTER  VI. 

ANALOGIES    AND     SIMILITUDES BIRDS     AND     POETS    ILLUSTRATING 

EACH   OTHER 144 

CHAPTER  VII. 

DROLLERIES  OF  THE  WOODS, 180 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

Page 
MY  PET  WOOD  THRUSHES, 190 


CHAPTER  IX. 

BORDER  LIFE  IN  THE  WEST AN  ADVENTURE  NEAR  THE  MOUTH  OF 

THE  OHIO  RIVER, 214 

CHAPTER  X. 

EAGLES  AND  ART, 235 

CHAPTER  XI. 

MY  WIFE'S  STORY  OF  HER  PET  CAT-BIRD  "  GENERAL  BEM,"     .       .       .    274 

CHAPTER  XII. 

WASHINGTON  EAGLE  AND  FISH-HAWKS, 287 

CHAPTER  XHI. 

MY  WIFE'S  STORY  OF  HER  PET  FINCHES, 307 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

OUT  OF  DOORS  WITH  NATURE, 318 

CHAPTER  XV. 

GHOST-FLOWER  AND  CHILD A  DREAM, 335 


WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIRDS. 


CHAPTEE  I. 

NATURE  AND   HER  HARMONIES. 

I  LOVE  song-birds  with  a  singular  affection.  Out  of  the 
bottom  of  my  heart  I  love  them — for  of  all  God's  creatures, 
except  a  clear-eyed,  innocent  child,  they  have  been  to  me  a 
wonder  and  a  miracle. 

I  never  could  get  done  wondering  to  hear  them  sing.  It 
sounds  so  strange  to  me  that  anything  could  be  happy 
enough  to  sing  but  angels  and  young  girls  ! 

Singing,  when  we  come  to  think  of  it,  seems  properly  to  be 
the  language  of  a  deathless  being — the  right  form  in  which 
the  exultings  of  an  Immortal  should  be  poured  among  the 
waves  of  shoreless  sound. 

That  a  sweet  sound  should  ever  cease  to  be,  appears  to  me 
unnatural — at  least  unpoetical — for,  let  its  vibrations  once 
begin,  though  they  may  soon  die  to  our  gross  sense,  must 
they  not  go  widening,  circling  on,  stinging  the  sense  of  my- 
riad other  lives  with  a  mysterious  pleasantness  (such  as  will 
overcome  us  in  a  wood  upon  an  April  day),  until  the  utter- 
most bound  of  our  poor  space  be  past,  and  yet  the  large  cir- 
cumference go  spread  and  spreading  tremulous  among  the 
girdling  stars  ? 

It  may  be  so  for  all  we  can  tell !  If  it  be  so,  how  quaint 
it  is  to  hear  these  little  feathered  creatures,  from  some  frail 


2  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIEDS. 

sprig — with  such  unconscious  earnestness — gushing  out 
strains  that  are  to  chime  the  solemn  dance  of  systems! 
Mystery  is  all  around  us.  Who  knows  but  that  these 
things  be  ? 

Whether  or  no,  it  is  a  marvellous  reality  to  hear  birds 
singing.  If  you  look  at  them  while  they  do  it,  with  their 
upturned  bills,  their  rapt,  softened,  half-closed  eyes,  their 
bodies  quivering  in  the  ecstatic  travail — you  cannot  but  feel 
in  reverential  mood,  and  hear  your  own  rebuked  heart  whis* 
pering  "let  us  pray!" 

What !  When  their  shrill,  melodious  clamorings  go  up 
with  the  mists  before  the  sun,  and  make  his  coming  over 
earth  to  be  with  light  in  music,  are  they  not  chaunting  mat- 
ins to  the  God  of  all  ? 

When  he  hastens  to  decline,  and  from  the  spires  of  tree- 
tops  everywhere  the  Thrush  and  Eobin  sing  a  low- voiced 
hymn — is  it  not  a  vesper-symphomQ  of  thanks  ? 

And  when,  in  the  deep  night,  the  Oriole,  in  dreamy  twit- 
terings, and  the  Mocking-bird,  in  clear,  triumphing  notes, 
stir  the  dark  shadows  of  the  cold,  gray  moon  to  the  wild 
pulsing  of  unmeasured  chords — is  it  not  a  worship  fitting  to 
that  mystic  time  ? 

Verily,  they  symbol  to  us  a  spiritual  and  a  holier  life ! 
The  purpose  of  their  being  is  in  prayer  and  praise,  just  as 
they  say  it  is  with  Angels. 

They  do  not  taste  the  fruits  of  earth,  and  revel  in  the 
warm  kisses  of  the  day  unthankfully  ;  but  when  their  little 
hearts — forever  drinking  love — fill  up  to  the  brim,  they  let 
their  cadent  fulness  go  towards  heaven. 

They  sing  when  they  have  eaten — they  sing  when  they 
have  drunk — while  they  are  waking,  music  always  trembles 
at  their  breasts — they  pay  back  the  caressing  sun  in  sweet- 
ness— and  when  they  sleep,  and  the  shining  beams  are  show- 
ered silently  and  pale,  down  from  the  bosom  of  the  darkness 
over  them,  their  dreams  break  out  in  momentary  song. 

They  take  the  berry,  flushing  underneath  green  leaves, 


NATURE  AND  HER  HARMONIES.  3 

and  the  sense  of  hunger  is  relieved.  So  when  they  snatch 
the  earth-worm — stirring  unusually  the  grass  blades  of  the 
sward  beneath  them — -from  its  slimy  hole,  the  bare  appetite 
is  soothed. 

Theirs  is  no  sodden  gormandie,  such  as  we  human  brutes 
indulge,  that  would  doze  and  snooze  away  the  precious 
hours.  ISTo ;  this  food  with  them  is  but  the  "  provender  of 
praise  ;"  and  for  every  mite  and  fragment  of  the  manna  of 
the  "  great  Dispenser"  they  do  obeisance  in  thanksgiving. 

Beautiful  lesson,  is  it  not,  to  us  a  stiff-necked  and  ungrate- 
ful generation?  We  eat  to  live,  that  we  may  eat  again. 
They  eat  that  they  may  make  merry  before  the  Lord,  and 
fill  his  outer  temple  with  the  sounds  of  love ! 

One  of  the  most  touching — and  what  certainly  should  be 
one  of  the  most  significant  objects  known  to  us,  is  afforded  in 
the  habitual  gesture  of  these  little  creatures  while  they  drink. 

Think  of  a  thin  rivulet  by  the  meadow-side  playing  at  bo- 
peep  with  the  sun  beneath  the  thickets — and  so  clear  withal, 
that  every  stem,  jagged  limb,  or  crooked,  leaf-weighed 
bough,  lies  boldly  shadowed  on  its  pale  sand,  or  over  its 
white  pebbles,  like  moon-shades  on  the  snow — except  that 
these  are  tremulous. 

Then  think  of  the  singing  throng  who  have  been  anticking 
and  carrolling  all  the  morning  upon  the  weed  and  clover- 
tops,  out  under  the  sun — coming  into  that  shady  place  about 
"the  sweltering  time  o'  day,"  to  cool  their  pipes. 

How  eagerly  they  come  flitting  in,  with  panting,  open 
throats  !  How  quietly,  through  those  cool,  chequered  glooms, 
thev  drop  beside  that  sliding  crystal. 

Here  a  scarlet  Grosbeak  flames  partly  in  the  sunlight, 
while  his  ebony -set  eyes  gleam  sharper  in  the  shade ;  the  Jay 
sits  yonder  behind  a  plumb-tree  shadow,  with  lowered  crest 
and  gaping  bill — the  Meadow  Lark  wades  in  and  stoops  until 
the  wavelets  curl  up  against  its  yellow  breast  and  kiss  the  dark 
blotch  on  its  throat ;  the  Wren  comes  creeping  down  with 
wagging  tail  among  the  mossy  roots ;  the  Orchard  Oriole, 


4  WILD   SCENES  AND  SONG-BIKDS. 

reckless  to  the  last,  comes  garrulous,  chattering  down,  and 
dips  upon  an  island  pebble ;  and  Bobby  Linkum,  with  his 
amorous  song  shivered  into  silvery  quavers,  comes  eagerly 
hurrying  after,  and  dashes  up  the  spray,  like  as  not,  amid- 
stream ;  the  Indigo  Bird  darts  in,  and  the  Sparrows  skip 
chirpingly  over  the  curled  last-winter  leaves;  the  yellow- 
eyed  Thrush,  with  long  bounds  and  drooping  wings,  splashes 
plump  into  the  water;  the  Cat  Bird,  with  faint  purr,  glides 
meekly  down ;  the  Elfin  Mocker,  even,  silent  now  and  pant- 
ing, half-spreading  its  white-barred  wings  with  every  hop, 
follows  the  rest ;  with  low  chirrup  and  quick  pattering  feet, 
the  dusky-dotted  Partridge  hurries  in;  now  see  them  one 
and  all  dip  their  thirsty  bills  into  the  cool  ripples — a  single 
drop,  then  each  is  upturned  towards  heaven,  and  softest  eyes 
look  the  mute  eloquence  of  thanks. 

Down  they  all  go  again — anothei  drop — up  they  rise  to- 
gether, pointing  toward  the  home  of  God,  gesticulating 
praises  while  they  take  his  gifts. 

Beautiful  worshippers !  Lovely  and  fitting  temple  of  the 
Most  High !  your  shady  places  have  been  hallowed  by  those 
simple  prayers.  That  inarticulate  incense,  like1  the  invisible 
aroma  of  hill-side  violets,  has  ascended  gratefully  to  heaven ! 

Ye  human  Formalists,  who,  to  the  alarm  of  chimes,  go  on 
your  knees  to  mumble  the  set  forms  of  praise !  what  is  your 
faith  compared  to  these  ? 

Would  that  ye  would  read  this  Elder  Bible  more — its 
wide,  miraculous  pages  have  many  a  sentient  chapter  such 
as  this,  where  all  the  breathing  is  of  love !  Turn  aside  to 
look  upon  them  with  a  calm  regard ;  who  knows  but  that 
the  light  abiding  with  these  gentle  things,  may  find  its  way 
through  the  hard  crust  of  cant,  and  wake  to  flowering  some 
genial  place  beside  thy  heart. 

Ye  are  not  all  ossified — brain,  sense  and  heart — even  down 
to  that  altar  of  the  belly  gods  within  you!  Be  of  good 
cheer,  and  not  affrighted  because  of  great  black-letter  Tomes, 
God's  Commentary  on  his  written  Revelation  was  given  first 


NATURE   AND   HER   HARMONIES.  5 

—was  handed  down  from  a  thousand  Sinais,  and  strewed  in 
green  and  golden  shadowy  lines  through  all  the  plains.  It 
yet  lives,  and  is,  from  under  his  own  hand,  above,  around, 
beneath  thee ;  and  by  it  too  ye  may  understand  that  holy  mys- 
tery— how  God  is  Love,  and  Love  is  God-like. 

These  are  not  all  the  mysteries  symbolized  by  Birds. 

How  carne  old  Genius  to  give  wings  to  its  embodied 
visions  of  the  Spirit-Land  ?  but  that  it  had  looked  upon  some 
plumed  and  beamy  singers  of  the  clouds, 

"  With  wings  that  might  have  had  a  soul  within  thorn, 
They  bore  their  owners  by  such  sweet  enchantment." 

Can  you  not  know  that  never  again  to  it,  from  out  the 
umbrage,  could  "  ministers  of  grace"  or  glad  ideals  come 
other  than  "by  such  sweet  enchantment?" 

"  The  wings  !  the  wings  !"  Ah  !  ever  they  must  grow 
upon  The  Beautiful,  ere  it  can  rise  to  Heaven ! 

To  us  on  wings  The  Beautiful  must  come  down  from 
thence !  It  is  with  longing  for  these  wings,  this  "  Immortality" 
doth  struggle  in  us !  To  the  music  of  their  mellow  whirr 
we  feel  exultmgs,  and  our  bare  arms  beat  vainly,  reaching 
toward  the  stars.  Ah  !  "  whence  this  longing  ?" — we  poor 
unfledged  earth-prone  things ! 

Is  it  not  a  memory  dimly  recalled  of  some  mysterious  whi- 
lome  when  our  free  vans  made  sudden  melody,  cleaving  past 
the  worlds,  through  space,  where  now  our  thoughts  go 
haunting  ghost-like? — or  is  it  that  "the  shadow  of  the 
coming  time"  falls  over  us  in  wings  ? 

"The  wings  I1' — no  fair  Ideal  can  come  to  us  but  with 
their  light  aerial  movement — no  dream  of  Love  but  with  the 
low  murmur  of  their  softest  beat — no  gleam  of  Joy  but  as 
they  glance  the  sunlight  off  in  gambolling — no  Hope  but  as 
they  climb  the  dark  craigs  of  the  piled-up  storm  and  reach 
the  serene  sky  above — no  Ambition 

"  But  flies  an  eagle  flight,  bold  and  forth  on!"— 


6  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIKDS. 

no  Freedom  but  wheels  and  rushes  tameless  through  the  un- 
bounded fields  of  air — no  ecstasy  of  Faith,  but  like 

"  The  lark  whose  notes  do  beat 
The  vanity  heaven,  so  high  above  our  heads,' 

— "  singeth  at  Heaven's  gate  I" — no  spiritual  Warning  but 
comes  and  goes,  inexplicably,  quick  as  the  shadow  of  some 
"full- winged  bird,"  glides  across  our  path  upon  a  summer's 
day — no  Visitation  but  comes  like  a  fierce  swooper  of  the 
sky,  the  moan  of  arrowy  wings  and  stroke  at  once — no 
Shudder  from  the  charnel  but  the  frowsy  flap  of  owlet  and 
of  bat,  "  chasing  the  lagging  night-shades,"  or  the  cloud- 
dropped  croak  of  "  sad  presaging  Eaven"  going  by  must 
bring  it — no  dash  of  "  mirthful  Phantasie"  but  that  sparkles 
from  the  jewelled  wings  of  restless  Hummers,  light  it  amidst 
the  flowers. 

All  the  mysteries  of  hope,  of  joy,  of  hate,  of  love,  are 
winged,  and  to  the  tameless  pulsing  of  this  winnowed  air  our 
life  must  beat ! 

Winging  and  singing  through  the  spring-time  with  the 
birds  our  Childhood  goes — and  ever,  while  that 

"  Infantine 

Familiar  clasp  of  things  divine," 

lingers  in  freshness  with  the  years — keeping  the  wise  youth 
of  our  hearts  unhackneyed — shall  living  be  a  joyful  thing, 
and  the  cycling  moons  wheel  blithely  with  us ! 

Ah,  those  times! — with  the  yellow-haired,  blue-eyed,  bloom- 
ing maidens,  in  their  white  pinafores  and  pantalettes ! — 

"  Lightsome,  then,  as  April  shadows, 
With  bees  and  merry  birds  at  play, 
Chasing  sunlight  o'er  the  meadows," 
were  we ! 

Bounding  and  carrolling  through  the  flower-starred,  odorous 
grass — scaring  the  fire-flies  back  to  the  moon,  whence  their 


NATURE  AND  HER  HARMONIES.  7 

bright  showers  fell — driving  the  sad,  plaining,  ill-omened 
whippoorwill  farther  away — what  cared  we  on  summer  even- 
ings? 

"  Rigor  now  is  gone  to  bed — 
Strict  Age  and  sour  Severity 
With  their  grave  saws  in  slumber  lie!" 

Go  listen,  we  may,  to  the  Mocking-Bird  down  in  the  val- 
ley, -on  the  lone  thorn  tree — singing  gleefully — singing 
quaintly — singing  mournfully  now  and  wildly : 

"  And  gushing  then  such  a  melodie 
As  harp-strings  make  when  a  Sprite  goes  by  !" 

Ha !  ha !  what  a  hotch-potch  of  minstrelsy  he  is  pouring ! — 
while  the  stars  glint  on  the  green  leaves,  and  they  are  seem- 
ing to  glint  back  those  silver  points  earth  wise,  barbing  his 
bright  notes  more  keenly — what  a  dividing  asunder  of  the 
joints  and  marrow  the  sharp  delight  of  those  loud  quaver- 
ings  doth  bring  ? 

Many  a  time  have  we  kissed  the  white  innocence  of  an 
upturned  forehead,  and  felt  the  light  pressure  of  a  "  flower- 
soft  hand"  return  the  questioning  of  our  gaze  into  the  "  fringed 
windows"  of  the  soul — large,  open,  dewy,  tremulous  with  ec- 
stasy beneath  that  song. 

How  could  the  earth-walking  angel  fail  to  think  of  Heaven 
when  those  rare  snatches  of  her  natal  roundelays  went  by  ? 
"Would  that  our  kiss  might  be  as  pure  and  our  spirit  as  appre- 
ciative now  of  these  "better  symphonies!" 

The  years !  the  years !  what  changes  do  they  bring !  The 
heated  walls,  the  din  of  wheels,  the  dust  and  smoke  of  the 
great  city  are  around  us,  and  we  are  toiling  wearily  with  the 
weary  toiling  crowd — while  away  by  the  scented  woods  this 
Mocking-Bird — our  Philomel 

"  singing  in  summer's  front ! 


Now  when  her  mournful  hymns  do  hush  the  night, 
And  that  wild  music  burdens  every  bough  !" 


8  WILD   SCENES  AND  SONG-BIKDS. 

that  wild  music  is  in  vain  for  us.  We  can  only  dream  of  it 
as  the  thirsty  Arab  dreameth  of  the  palm-trees  and  the  foun- 
tain— and  as  to 

"  How  silver-sweet  sound  lovers'  tongues  by  night !" 

we  can  only  tell  when  these  memories  babble  to  our  sleep ! 

To  be  sure  we  sometime  since  did  steal  an  hour  from  our 
duties,  and  run  away  like  a  truant  school-boy  to  the  country, 
emulous  of  the  odors  of  new-mown  hay  upon  our  garments ! 

"We  caught  this  infection  of  sweetness  while  "  loafing"  on 
the  shady  side  of  the  ricks  out  in  the  shorn  meadows,  with 
eyes  half  closed,  listening  to  Bobby  Linkum  chirruping  his 
saucy  thoughts  about  the  despoliation  of  his  forage-grounds. 

He  is  a  very  chatty,  gay,  abusive  fellow,  Eobert  Linkum 
is.  The  utile  et  dulci  he  has  no  respect  for.  What  matter  is 
it  to  him  that  grass  smells  sweeter  for  being  cut,  and  that  it 
makes  the  heavy  wains  go  creaking  to  the  barns,  and  the  far- 
mer's canvas  pocket  heavier  too,  when  all  this  curtails  his 
lineal  prerogative  of  bugs  and  butterflies — puts  him  to  shifts 
for  "  findings"  to  keep  that  wide-mouthed  crew  of  little 
brawlers  quiet  he  has  hid  yonder  in  the  shrubs  ? 

One  can  see  plainly  he  does  not  like  it.  He  comes  flutter 
ing  sideways,  chattering,  raving  and  scolding,  just  above  our 
heads,  his  eye  cocked  downwards,  with  a  connoisseuring 
look,  at  our  proceeding. 

He  evidently  thinks  we  are  an  awkward  set  of  fellows,  be- 
sides being  mischief-doers. 

It  does  gladden  one's  eyes  to  see  these  waving  lakes  of 
green — heavy  and  deep — the  rich  promise  of  a  golden  prime. 
And  then  the  fruits !  The  pregnant  winds  from  the  dew- 
dropping  south,  since  Lang  Syne,  have  hardly  been  so  prod- 
igal; the  ruddy  flushing  from  under  the  green  leaves  of 
shiny  clusters,  deepens  all  the  air,  and  clothes  the  trees  right 
royally. 

We  came  back  half  mourning  at  our  lot  being  cast  amidst 
the  stifling  streets  of  Gotham,  and  more  than  half  envying 


NATURE  AND  HER  HARMONIES.  9 

the  "  country  folk"  this  prodigality  of  "  the  benedictions  of 
the  covering  heavens"  and  teeming  earth. 

But,  thanks  to  our  stars,  we  were  not  always  thus  "  cribbed, 
cabined,  and  confined  I"  That  we  have  a  heart  still,  and  some 
few  tears  left,  to  be  spilt  on  occasion,  we  attribute  solely  to 
the  fact  that  we  have  lived  much  abroad  in  the  freedom  of 
God's  own  woods  and  plains  and  rivers — that  our  voice  has 

"  Awaked  the  courteous  Echo 
To  give  us  answer  from  her  mossy  couch," 

in  some  strange,  far  places. 

We  have  met  this  same  master  Bobby  Linkum  masquerading 
in  another  dress  through  the  savannahs  of  the  pleasant  south, 
and  such  tricks  before  high  Heaven  as  the  gad-about  doth 
play,  must  make  the  angels  smile — not  "weep" — to  witness! 

But  be  comforted,  thou  of  little  locomotion !  thou  shalt 
know,  even  at  thine  own  fire-side,  this  fantastical,  as  well  in 
his  remoter  wanderings  toward  the  tropics,  as  in  his  love- 
making  time  in  thine  own  meadows — for 

"  Audubon ! 
Thou  Eaphael  of  great  Nature's  woods  and  seas  !" 

has  been  upon  his  track.     He  with  the 

"  Power  to  bear  the  untravelled  soul 

Through  farthest  wilds — o'er  ocean's  stormy  roll — 
And  to  the  prisoner  of  disease  bring  home 
The  homeless  bird  of  ocean's  roaring  foam  !" 

Hear  what  he  caught  master  Bobby  at : 

"During  their  sojourn  in  Louisiana,  in  spring,  their  song, 
which  is  extremely  interesting,  and  emitted  with  a  volubility 
bordering  on  the  burlesque,  is  heard  from  a  whole  party  at 
the  same  time ;  when,  as  each  individual  is,  of  course,  pos- 
sessed of  the  same  musical  power  as  his  neighbors,  it  becomes 


10  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIRDS. 

amusing  to  listen  to  thirty  or  forty  of  them  beginning  one 
after  another,  as  if  ordered  to  follow  in  quick  succession, 
after  the  first  notes  given  by  a  leader,  and  producing  such  a 
medley  as  it  is  impossible  to  describe,  although  it  is  extremely 
pleasant  to  hear  it.  While  you  are  listening,  the  whole  flock 
simultaneously  ceases,  which  appears  equally  extraordinary. 
This  curious  exhibition  takes  place  every  time  that  the  flock 
has  alighted  on  a  tree,  after  feeding  for  awhile  on  the  ground, 
and  is  renewed  at  intervals  during  the  day." 

But  these  are  not  all  the  curious  ways  Eobert  has. 

He  is  very  fashionable,  and  Eke  the  other  "  absentee"  gen- 
try of  the  south,  follows  the  spring  toward  the  north  to  do 
his  courting.  Now  this  is  very  sagacious  of  master  Bob — 
for  he  is  aware  that  "  spruce  and  jocund"  maiden  has  a  way 
of  making  up  for  her  shorter  stay  in  these  boreal  regions,  by 
the  displaying  a  greater  profusion  of  "  beck  and  nod,  and 
wreathed  smiles  I" 

Sometimes  the  gallant  is  in  too  great  a  hurry  to  get  the 
benefit  of  these  sweet  dispensations,  and  he  reaches  the  am- 
orous vicinage  before  his  "  sparking  suit"  has  come  out — (the 
change  usually  occurs  during  his  transit). 

Eobert  is  so  evidently  mortified  at  the  want  of  his  "  Sun- 
day-go-to-meetins"  at  such  a  time,  that  Mr.  Audubon  puts  forth 
the  insinuation  that  the  feathered  "  Mercutio"  appears  rather 
mopish  for  awhile ; — such  a  volcanic  heart  has  he,  though, 
that  in  spite  of  this,  "no  sooner  does  a  flock  of  females  (who 
follow  from  a  week  to  ten  days  after)  make  its  appearance, 
than  these  dull-looking  gentlemen  immediately  pay  them 
such  particular  attention,  and  sing  so  vehemently,  that  the 
fact  of  their  being  of  a  different  sex  becomes  undeniable." 

Kob  gets  his  fine  clothes  on  at  last,  and,  while  the  love- 
season  lasts,  becomes  more  sprightly  than  ever. 

"  Their  song  is  mostly  performed  in  the  air,  while  they  are 
rising  and  falling  in  successive  jerks,  which  are  as  amusing 
as  the  jingling  of  their  vocal  essays.  The  variety  of  their 
colors  is  at  this  juncture  very  remarkable.  It  is  equally  so, 


NATURE  AND  HER  HARMONIES.  11 

when,  on  rising  among  from  the  grass  and  flying  away  from 
the  observer,  they  display  the  pure  black  and  white  of  their 
wings  and  body." 

That  love-song  of  Kob's  has  been  greatly  admired,  and 
several  efforts  have  been  made  by  distinguished  amateurs  to 
set  its  music  to  words. 

Nobody  has  made  much  of  it,  except  our  Irving,  and  as 
we  cannot  quote  him  here,  we  shall  not  attempt  to  do  it  our- 
self! — for  the  truth  is,  Bob  is  such  a  rattling,  voluble,  reck- 
less, mad,  melodious  ranter,  that  an  attempt  to  translate  him 
is  almost  out  of  the  question — indeed,  it  would  take  a  folio 
of  MS.  to  give  all  the  little  cataract  of  tender  epithets  that 
pours  in  liquid  gushes  from  his  blithe  throat,  as  he  goes  flut 
tering  and  wagging  up  and  down  from  one  tall  mullien  top 
to  another ! 

But  Eobert  is  in  love,  and  sober  people  should  not  judge 
him  hardly — if  they  loved  any  one  heartily  as  he  loves  Mrs. 
Mary  Linkum — hid  away  yonder  in  the  grass,  brooding  over 
those  five  speckled  eggs — and  their  hearts  were  as  light  as 
his,  they  would  be  garrulous  too — that  is  all  1  Ah,  Bobby  I 
Bobby !  we  fear  you  are  but  a  graceless  scamp  at  last — to 
think  I  that  after  such  a  mirthful  life  of  musical  lunacy,  you 
should  turn  freebooter  before  the  year  is  out,  and  get  your- 
self shot  at.  Mr.  Audubon  tells  a  sad  tale  of  your  .after  do- 
ings. "We  have  misgivings  you're  a  dissipated,  rollicking 
bird,  at  best,  Eob ! 

"  No  sooner  have  the  young  left  the  nest,  than  they  and 
their  parents  associate  with  other  families,  so  that  by  the  end 
of  July  large  flocks  begin  to  appear.  They  seem  to  come 
from  every  portion  of  the  Eastern  States,  and  already  resort 
to  the  borders  of  the  rivers  and  estuaries  to  roost.  Their 
songs  have  ceased,  their  males  have  lost  their  gay  livery,  and 
have  assumed  the  yellow  hue  of  the  females  and  young,  al- 
though the  latter  are  more  firm  in  their  tints  than  the  old 
males,  and  the  whole  begin  to  return  southward,  slowly  and 
with  a  single  dink,  sufficient,  however,  to  give  intimation  of 


12  WILD   SCENES  AND   SONG-BIRDS. 

their  passage,  as  they  fly  in  high  files  during  the  whole 
day. 

"  Now  begin  their  devastations.  They  plunder  every  field, 
but  are  shot  in  immense  numbers.  As  they  pass  along  the 
sea-shores,  and  follow  the  muddy  edges  of  the  rivers,  cover- 
ed at  that  season  with  full-grown  reeds,  whose  tops  are  bent 
down  with  the  weight  of  the  ripe  seeds,  they  alight  amongst 
them  in  countless  multitudes,  and  afford  abundant  practice 
to  every  gunner. 

"It  is  particularly  towards  sunset,  and  when  the  weather  is 
fine,  that  the  sport  of  shooting  Reed  Birds  is  most  profitable. 
They  have  then  fully  satiated  their  appetite,  and  have  col- 
lected together  for  the  purpose  of  roosting.  At  the  discharge 
of  a  gun,  a  flock  sufficient  to  cover  several  acres  rises  en  masse, 
and  performing  various  evolutions,  densely  packed,  and  re- 
sembling a  sultry  cloud,  passes  over  and  near  the  sportsman, 
when  he  lets  fly,  and  finds  occupation  for  some  time  in  pick- 
ing up  the  dozens  which  he  has  brought  down  at  a  single 
shot.  One  would  think  that  every  gun  in  the  country  has 
been  put  in  requisition.  Millions  of  these  birds  are  destroy- 
ed, and  yet  millions  remain,  for  after  all  the  havoc  that  has 
been  made  among  them  in  the  Middle  Districts,  they  follow 
the  coast,  and  reach  the  rice  plantations  of  the  Carolinas  in 
such  astonishing  numbers,  that  no  one  could  conceive  their 
flocks  to  have  been  already  thinned.  Their  flesh  is  extreme- 
ly tender  and  juicy.  The  markets  are  amply  supplied,  and 
the  epicures  have  a  glorious  time  of  it." 

We  have  a  charming  counterpart  of  Eobert  in  the  South 
and  West,  among  the  Orioles.  He  is  called  the  Orchard  or 
Parson  Oriole,  from  the  soberness  of  his  garments ;  but  O  ! 
commend  us  to  such  Parsons  as  he — the  merry  "  clerk  of 
Copenhurst"  would  be  demure  beside  him ! — The  gleeful, 
thoughtless,  sinner!  he  can't  go  from  one  tree-top  to  an- 
other, (for  he  is  more  ambitious  than  Eob,  and  swings  his 
grass- wove  hammock  from  pinnacle  orchard  boughs,)  without 
ranting  in  such  a  glad,  rattle-pate,  glorious  fashion  about  his 


NATURE  AND  HER  HARMONIES.  18 

happiness,  keeping  time  with  his  wings  as  he  flutters  and 
dives  along,  that  one  cannot  help  feeling  he  is  about  to  go 
all  to  pieces  in  his  ecstasy ;  be  verily  fragmented  into  sweet 
sounds ! 

But  no  such  thing  ;  he's  a  tough  little  preacher  of  cheerful- 
ness, and  holds  together  with  all  that  riotous,  jolly  rantipole. 

Ah,  how  we  have  laughed  on  a  spring  morning,  to  wit- 
ness his  delirious  bliss,  as  he  went  exhorting  by,  to  his  so- 
berer neighbors,  about  love  and  sunshine,  the  dew  and  flow- 
ers ;  bugs  and  caterpillars  too,  no  doubt ! 

"  Hail  to  thee,  blithe  spirit  !"• — thou  embodied  joy !  winged 
laughter ! — pleasant  indeed  is  thy  faith  of  mirth,  and  wiser 
far  than  that  of  canting !  Mr.  Audubon  gives  a  felicitous 
account  of  the  funny,  ingenious  ways  of  this  jollificating 
Eeverend. 

"  No  sooner  have  they  reached  the  portion  of  the  country  in 
which  they  intend  to  remain  during  the  time  of  raising  their 
young,  than  these  birds  exhibit  all  the  liveliness  and  vivacity 
belonging  to  their  nature.  The  male  is  seen  rising  in  the  air 
from  ten  to  twenty  yards  in  an  indirect  manner,  jerking  his 
tail  and  body,  flapping  his  wings,  and  singing  with  remark- 
able impetuosity,  as  if  under  the  influence  of  haste,  and  anx- 
ious to  return  to  the  tree  from  which  he  has  departed.  He 
accordingly  descends  with  the  same  motions  of  the  body  and 
tail,  repeating  his  pleasing  song  as  he  alights.  These  gam- 
bols and  carollings  are  performed  frequently  during  the  day, 
the  intervals  being  employed  in  ascending  or  descending 
along  the  branches  and  twigs  of  different  trees,  in  search  of 
insects  or  larvas.  In  doing  this,  they  rise  on  their  legs,  sel- 
dom without  jetting  the  tail,  stretch  the  neck,  seize  the  prey, 
and  emit  a  single  note,  which  is  sweet  and  mellow,  although 
in  power  much  inferior  to  that  of  the  Baltimore.  At  other 
times,  it  is  seen  bending  its  body  downwards,  in  a  curved 
posture,  with  the  head  gently  inclined  upwards,  to  peep  at 
the  under  parts  of  the  leaves,  so  as  not  to  suffer  any  grub  to 
escape  its  vigilance.  It  now  alights  on  the  ground,  where  it 


14  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIKDS. 

has  spied  a  crawling  insect,  and  again  flies  towards  the  blos- 
soms, in  which  many  are  lurking,  and  devours  hundreds  of 
them  each  day ;  thus  contributing  to  secure  to  the  farmer  the 
hopes  which  he  has  of  the  productiveness  of  his  orchard. 

"  The  arrival  of  the  females  is  marked  with  all  due  regard, 
and  the  males  immediately  use  every  effort  in  their  power  to 
procure  from  them  a  return  of  attention.  Their  singings  and 
tricks  are  performed  with  redoubled  ardor,  until  they  are 
paired,  when  nidification  is  attended  to  with  the  utmost  ac- 
tivity. They  resort  to  the  meadows,  or  search  along  the 
fences  for  the  finest,  longest,  and  toughest  grasses  they  can 
find,  and  having  previously  fixed  on  a  spot,  either  on  an 
apple-tree,  or  amidst  the  drooping  branches  of  the  weeping- 
willow,  they  begin  by  attaching  the  grass  firmly  and  neatly 
to  the  twigs  more  immediately  around  the  chosen  place. 
The  filaments  are  twisted,  passed  over  and  under,  and  inter- 
woven in  such  a  manner  as  to  defy  the  eye  of  a  man  to  fol- 
low their  windings.  All  this  is  done  by  the  bill  of  the  bird, 
in  the  manner  used  by  the  Baltimore  Oriole.  The  nest  is  of 
a  hemispherical  form,  and  is  supported  by  the  margin  only. 
It  seldom  exceeds  three  or  four  inches  in  depth,  is  open  al- 
most to  the  full  extent  of  its  largest  diameter  at  the  top  or 
entrance,  and  finished  on  all  sides,  as  well  as  within,  with 
the  long  slender  grasses  already  mentioned.  Some  of  these 
go  round  the  nest  several  times,  as  if  coarsely  woven  together. 
This  is  the  manner  in  which  the  nest  is  constructed  in  Lou- 
isiana :  in  the  Middle  Districts  it  is  usually  lined  with  soft 
and  warm  materials." 

On  the  whole,  in  this  instance,  we  like  the  Southern  Par- 
son best ;  for,  in  addition  to  being  quite  as  facetious  and  lov- 
ing as  Master  Rob,  he  proves  to  be  a  much  better  citizen ; 
for  his  admirers,  instead  of  having  their  sense  of  propriety 
shocked,  in  seeing  him  turn  wholesale  plunderer,  are  told  of 
his  "  contributing  to  secure  to  the  farmer  his  hopes  of  the 
productiveness  of  his  orchard." 

"We  would  advise  all  ironside  philosophers,  catechism  in 


NATURE  AND  HER  HARMONIES.  15 


hand,  to  go  to  the  Sunday  school,  (for  all  days  are 

to  him)  where  this  little  Parson  teaches  :  —  it  is  possible  such 

may  learn  of  more  things  there  than  they  have  dreamed  of 

yet. 

In  addition  to  the  healthful  tonic  of  his  laughing  ethics, 
through  which  their  lank  sides  may  grow  to  shake  with  fat, 
perhaps  the  Parson,  in  exhibiting  the  process  by  which  that 
woven  domicil  of  his  is  constructed,  may  enlighten  them  as 
to  the  absurdity  of  certain  dogmatisms  concerning  instinct. 

Beside  the  consummate  and  delicate  skill  with  which  he 
plies  the  long,  fibrous  thread,  with  small  feet  and  needle-like 
bill,  weaving,  plaiting,  sewing  —  there  is  something  in  that 
facility  of  adaptation,  which,  in  Louisiana,  exhibits  the  nest 
"  coarsely  woven,"  that  the  air  may  pass  through,  and  in  the 
middle  States  "  lined  with  soft  and  warm  materials,"  that  so 
curiously  resembles  "  reasoning  ;"  that  is  amazingly  like  an 
independent  volition,  guided  by  the  familiar  and  simple  pro- 
cess of  "  Induction  1"  Who  knows  ?  "  A  little  bird  told  me 
sot" 

The  Parson  is  indignantly  eloquent  upon  these  points 
sometimes.  He  says  that  he  displays  quite  as  much  judg- 
ment and  more  foresight,  in  selecting  the  locality  and  ma- 
terial of  his  house,  than  we  "  animals  on  two  legs,  without 
feathers"  ever  do;  that  he  is  bred  to  be  a  better  artist  than 
one  in  a  thousand  of  us  ;  that  Orioles  are  no  more  compel- 
led, by  a  resistless  impulse,  to  build  their  houses  in  a  partic- 
ular way,  without  understanding  the  reason  why,  than  the 
Hindoos  are,  to  build  Pagodas  ;  that  he  does  understand  the 
reason  perfectly,  and  it  is  the  plainest  imaginable  one. 

This  particular  form  is  chosen,  because  it  suits  his  habits, 
tastes,  and  mode  of  life  best,  and  that,  the  Chinaman,  who 
has  built  his  house  in  the  same  way  (so  far  as  we  know)  for 
three  thousand  years,  can  give  no  better  reason. 

That  though  a  particular  outline  suits  him  best,  and  suited 
his  forefathers  the  best,  yet  they  have  been  in  the  habit  of 
altering  the  construction  and  material  ;  and  he  knows  why, 


16  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIRDS. 

clearly  enough,  that  in  a  hot  climate  it  would  not  do  to  make 
them  close  and  warm,  or  in  a  cold  climate,  open. 

It  stands  to  reason,  in  the  one  case,  that  the  young  would 
be  suffocated,  in  the  other,  frozen. 

Furthermore,  continues  the  orator,  it  is  all  fal  lal  I  the  as- 
sertion that  my  young  are  taught  by  any  such  thing  as  in- 
instinct  when  to  pierce  the  shell ;  the  principle  of  life  has 
germinated,  as  it  does  in  a  grain  of  corn,  in  a  certain  number 
of  days,  under  the  warmth  of  my  breast,  and  when  the  little 
fellows  begin  to  get  strong,  they  kick  and  scuffle  in  their 
prison,  and  a  small  sharp  cone,  on  the  top  of  the  beak,  (which 
was  put  there  for  the  purpose,  and  drops  off  in  a  few  days,) 
soon  cracks  the  shell,  while  they  are  struggling,  and  then  we 
help  them  out. 

And  furthermore,  my  younglings  are  just  as  innocently 
silly  as  your  younglings,  or  any  other  young  geese,  and  will 
run  into  the  water,  or  into  the  fire  just  as  soon  as  others, 
until  they  have  burnt  their  toes,  or  got  themselves  half- 
drowned  for  their  curiosity,  and  then,  as  this  is  not  pleasant, 
they  are  satisfied  to  keep  themselves  out  of  such  scrapes. 

Do  I  not  go  with  them  all  the  summer,  keeping  them  out 
of  difficulties,  coaxing  and  scolding,  learning  them  how  to 
fly,  how  to  catch  bugs,  chase  butterflies,  find  caterpillars,  to 
hide  from  their  enemies,  plume  themselves,  and  sing ;  and 
can't  you  understand,  that  yet,  though  I  cannot  speak  He- 
brew or  English,  I  speak  the  Oriole  tongue,  and  learn  them 
to  speak  and  comprehend  it,  that  I  may  teach  them  the  morals 
and  religion  of  the  Orioles ! 

Faugh !  instinct  indeed !  Don't  you  perceive  they  are  reg- 
ularly educated?  If  you  great,  stupid,  clumsy  animals,  only 
had  feathers  on,  there  might  be  a  faint  hope  of  your  learning 
something ! 

We  think  this  will  be  recognized  as  a  very  unctuous  and 
edifying  discourse  of  our  Parson's ;  such  are  his  more  didatic 
teachings ;  of  the  others  you  have  heard. 

But  we  must  confess  that  the  Parson,  with  all  our  respect 


NATURE  AND  HER  HARMONIES.  17 

for  him,  has  certainly  some  very  mysterious  ways.  Mr.  Au- 
dubon  plainly  intimates,  that  in  common  with  all  spirited 
young  "bloods,"  he  is  frequently  "disguised,"  and  that  it  re- 
quires several  years  for  him  to  take  upon  himself  the  "  sober, 
outward  seeming"  of  his  tribe  or  profession. 

The  whole  extent  of  the  curious  and  interesting  charge 
the  Naturalist  brings  against  him,  may  be  gathered  from  the 
passage  we  give  below ;  premising  that  he  speaks  of  him  as 
the  "Orchard,"  while  we  know  him  as  the  "Parson  Oriole." 

"  The  plumage  of  many  species  of  our  birds  undergoes  at 
times  very  extraordinary  changes.  Some,  such  as  the  male 
Tanagers,  which  during  the  summer  months  exhibit  the  most 
vivid  scarlet  and  velvety  black,  assume  a  dingy  green  before 
they  leave  the  country,  on  their  way  southward.  The  Gold- 
finch nearly  changes  to  the  same  color,  after  having  been  seen 
in  the  gay  apparel  of  yellow  and  black.  The  Eice  Bird 
loses,  its  lively  brightness  until  the  return  of  spring.  Others 
take  several  years  before  they  complete  their  plumage,  so  as 
to  show  the  true  place  which  they  hold  among  the  other 
species,  as  is  the  case  with  the  Ibis,  the  Flamingo,  and 
many  other  Waders,  as  well  as  with  several  of  our  land  birds, 
among  which,  kind  reader,  the  species  now  under  your  con- 
sideration is  probably  that  in  which  these  gradual  improve- 
ments are  most  observable  by  such  persons  as  reside  in  the 
country  inhabited  by  them. 

"  The  plumage  of  the  young  birds  of  this  species,  when 
they  leave  the  nest,  resembles  that  of  the  female  parent,  al- 
though rather  less  decided  in  point  of  coloring,  and  both 
males  and  females  retain  this  color  until  the  approach  of  the 
following  spring,  when  the  former  exhibit  a  portion  of  black 
on  the  chin,  the  females  never  altering.  In  birds  kept  in 
cages,  this  portion  of  black  remains  without  farther  augmen- 
tation for  two  years ;  but  in  those  which  are  at  liberty,  a  cu- 
rious mixture  of  dull  orange  or  deep  chesnut  peeps  out 
through  a  considerable  increase  of  black-colored  feathers 
over  the  body  and  wings,  intermixed  with  the  yellowish- 

2 


18  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIEDS. 

green  hue  which  the  bird  had  when  it  left  the  nest.  The 
third  spring  brings  him  nearer  towards  perfection,  as  at  that 
time  the  deep  chesnut  color  has  taken  possession  of  the  lower 
parts,  the  black  has  deepened  on  the  upper  parts,  and  over  the 
whole  head,  as  well  as  on  the  wings  and  tail-feathers.  Yet 
the  garb  with  which  it  is  ultimately  to  be  covered  requires 
another  return  of  spring  before  it  is  completed,  after  which 
it  remains  as  exhibited  in  the  adult  male  represented  in  the 
plate. 

u  These  extraordinary  changes  are  quite  sufficient  of  them- 
selves to  lead  naturalists  abroad  into  error,  as  they  give  rise 
to  singular  arguments  even  with  some  persons  in  America, 
who  maintain  that  the  differences  of  color  are  indicative  of 
different  species.  But,  since  the  habits  of  these  birds  under 
all  these  singular  changes  of  plumage,  are  ascertained  to  be 
precisely  the  same,  the  argument  no  longer  holds  good'." 

Of  whatever  impositions  upon  "the  sex,"  "the  Parson" 
may  have  been  guilty,  during  the  years  of  his  various  dis- 
guises, we  profess  to  be  innocently  ignorant,  and  are  "  happy 
in  our  ignorance." 

But  of  one  thing  we  are  soberly  assured :  that  Mr.  Audu 
bon  is  the  first  of  Naturalists,  (not  Ornithologist,  simply,) 
who  has  eliminated  this  distinction  of  age,  sex  and  color, 
with  their  corresponding  transitions,  into  anything  bordering 
upon  scientific  accuracy.  He  first  thoroughly  roused  science 
to  the  fact  that  it  had  often  recognized  male  as  female,  young 
as  old,  and  proved  that  many  of  its  genera  and  species  might 
come  from  the  same  nest  or  lair ! 

No  classification  can  be  called,  scientific,  or  recognized  as 
worth  anything,  in  which  this  point  has  not  been  most  care- 
fully guarded ;  and  it  involves  difficulties,  which,  in  some 
instances,  the  untiring  zeal  and  watchfulness  of  his  long  life 
has  been  insufficient  to  solve. 

What  a  singular  ordination  these  alterations  of  plumage 
appears !  The  metamorphoses  of  Fashion  are  here  clearly 
legitimatized  by  nature.  Our  Parson,  with  the  addition  of 


NATURE  AND  HER  HARMONIES.  19 

Rev.  may  be  called  the  D'Orsay  of  Birds,  and  the  tribe  of  the 
Tanagers,  the  Patriarchs  of  "  Turn-coats."  Let  not  the  wor- 
shippers of  Fashion  be  longer  stigmatized  as  nose-led  by  a 
Parisian  Dandy,  or  old  Federalists,  or  new  light  Locofocos, 
as  nasally  guided  by  the  savor  of  "flesh-pots."  Here  they 
have  far  more  respectable  precedents :  their  respective  orders 
were  no  doubt  instituted  by  Nature  herself.  Should  they  but 
consult  this  candid  and  ancient  Dame,  she  would,  no  doubt, 
recommend  to  the  "  Count"  the  figure  of  our  "Parson,"  as 
proper  to  be  introduced  into  his  coat-of-arms,  and  to  the 
Tory  Demagogues  that  of  the  Tanagers  as  proper  to  the  coat- 
of-arms  they  see  in  "yearning  dreams." 

Audubon  uses  a  charming  phrase  in  characterizing  the  en- 
thusiasm which  he  found  himself  giving  way  to  in  the  de- 
scription of  his  feeling  on  the  unexpected  consummation 
of  what  he  considered  the  triumphant  achievement  of  his 
life — the  discovery  of  the  Bird  of  Washington.  He  sud- 
denly fears  that  he  may  be  considered  as  "  prattling  out  of 
fashion !"  Well,  that  is  just  the  thing !  I  consider  it  pe- 
culiarly felicitous  and  to  the  point. 

Though  the  story  may  not  be  particularly  savory  in  some 
of  its  associations,  I  shall  even  venture,  at  the  risk  of  such 
an  imputation,  to  relate  one  from  the  reminiscences  of  my 
early  boyhood  concerning  those  sharp  denizens  of  air,  known 
as  "  Corvus  Americanus" — the  gentleman  in  black. 

I  once  saw  some  crows  feeding  on  the  offal  of  a  late  slaugh- 
tering of  domestic  animals  not  far  from  my  father's  house. 
There  had  been  a  very  deep  snow  on  the  ground  for  some 
weeks,  and  the  crows  had  become  very  ravenous.  The  place 
where  they  fed,  was  within  gun-shot  of  a  cedar-hedge.  After 
firing  amongst  them  once  or  twice,  they  all  took  the  alarm, 
and  to  my  knowledge,  never  came  back  again,  except  one 
very  large,  and,  I  should  think,  gray-muzzled  bird.  I  noticed 
that  he  uniformly  seemed  to  have  his  eye  or  nose,  it  is  diffi- 
cult to  tell  which,  upon  me ;  for  when  I  would  reach  my 
hiding-place,  I  could  see  the  gentleman  make  a  desperate 


20  WILD   SCENES  AND   SONG  BIRDS. 

tear  at  some  liver  hanging  on  the  fence  rails,  and  down  he 
would  dip  as  quick  as  lightning,  behind  the  wood-pile  next 
the  fence,  and  when  I  would  fire  impatiently  with  the  hope 
to  secure  him,  he  would  fly,  cawing,  off,  rising  in  triumph 
to  the  tops  of  the  highest  trees,  with  his  prey  in  his  mouth. 

This  was  repeated  day  after  day,  for  nearly  a  week,  with 
about  the  .same  results,  he  still  returning  in  unyielding  au- 
dacity for  his  prey,  in  the  teeth  of  all  my  threatening  efforts. 
I  had  sworn  vengeance  against  this  particular  crow,  and  at 
last  hit  upon  what  I  conceived  to  be  an  admirable  expedient. 
I  put  up  a  little  board  house  near  the  corner  where  he  fed, 
and  having  formed  it  large  enough  to  conceal  my  body, 
made  a  small  esquimaux  ambuscade,  or  hunting-lodge  of  it, 
by  covering  it  above,  and  on  all  side's,  with  snow,  leaving  a 
little  loop-hole,  chinked  with  snow,  that  could  easily  be 
pushed  out  with  my  gun-barrel,  and  a  small  window,  through 
which  I  could  barely  see  the  place  where  I  expected  the  crow 
to  alight,  and  where  I  had  placed  a  most  tempting  great 
piece  of  liver  for  a  bait. 

I  had  studiously  accomplished  this  work  between  sundown 
and  dusk,  the  time  when  the  crows  had  all  gone  to  roost.  In 
the  morning,  about  10  o'clock,  I  crawled  into  my  hunting- 
lodge,  thinking  I  should  have  him  now  for  sure ;  I  had  to 
sit  not  more  than  an  hour,  when,  with  palpitating  heart,  I 
heard  above  me  his  noisy  caw.  I  had  concealed  my  body 
carefully,  because  I  knew  he  inspected,  while  on  the  wing, 
all  the  premises.  He  approached  my  old  hiding-place  very 
cautiously,  mounting  high  in  the  air ;  when  seeming  to  be 
satisfied,  he  poised  himself  for  a  moment,  and  came  down 
in  a  slanting  direction  towards  the  liver,  with  something  of 
the  quick  movement  of  a  hawk's  swoop — I  clutched  my  gun, 
preparing  to  fire  the  moment  he  should  alight.  He  had  to 
pass,  of  course,  near  my  little  lodge,  that  I  thought  had  been 
so  dexterously  concealed,  in  imitation  of  a  pile  of  wood  and 
snow,  but,  while  yet  on  the  swoop,  the  crow  seeing,  I  suppose, 
that  there  was  something  suspicious  in  that  corner  of  the  wood, 


NATURE  AND   HER  HARMONIES.  21 

almost  brushed,  with  his  wing,  the  delicious  breakfast  as  he 
went  by,  darted  upward  more  swiftly  than  he  descended,  and 
flew  off  to  his  own  woods,  squalling  defiance  to  his  indefati- 
gable enemy  as  he  went. 

I  never  saw  that  crow  again,  that  I  know  of.  He  never 
came  back,  and  the  best  proof  of  it  was,  that  the  liver  still 
lay  on  the  fence  corner,  where  it  had  been  placed,  until  the 
winter  broke. 

I  can  conceive  no  other  solution  to  this  curious  incident, 
than  that  our  friend  with  the  black  coat  was  willing  to  meet 
myself,  or  any  other  puissant  champion,  in  fair  field  and  on 
fair  terms,  for  a  taste  of  those  esculent  morsels  which  were 
so  necessary  to  him  during  the  winter,  and  though  not  particu- 
larly partial  to  gunpowder,  his  experience  had  rendered  him 
sufficiently  confident  to  be  willing  to  run  the  risks — when 
he  knew  my  hiding-place. 

While  he  knew  what  to  fear,  he  knew  how  to  deport  him- 
self accordingly ;  but  when  it  came  to  treachery  to  all  the 
laws  of  war ;  a  change  of  the  place,  a  well-disguised  snow- 
trap  buried  in  the  white,  unsuspected  bosom  of  old  Mother 
Earth,  the  thing  was  horrible  !  It  frightened  him  out  of  his 
propriety  !  Paugh  !  or  rather,  caw !  such  a  traitor  !  It  was 
indecent,  it  was  savage,  it  was  unmannerly !  Caw  !  caw  I 

But  what  is  all  this  shrewdness  to  be  called  ?  a  mere  blind 
Instinct  ?  or  has  it  some  processes  apparent,  closely  resem- 
bling those  of  Eeason  ?  Is  it  a  pair  of  sharp  eyes  and  keen 
nostrils,  guiding  the  safety  of  a  mere  machine  with  black 
feathers  and  black  wings  through  the  air  ?  Has  it  passions, 
affections,  power  of  adaptation,  hope,  memory,  &c.  ?  These 
are  interesting  questions. 

This  is,  no  doubt,  "prattling  out  of  fashion"  sure  enough 
— but  what  of  it  ?  The  Good  Book  sayeth  out  of  the  mouths 
of  babes  and  sucklings  ye  shall  rebuke  them,  and  the  above 
phrase  precisely  expresses  that  peculiar  and  excited  vernacular 
which  belongs  equally  to  children  and  philosophers,  as  con- 
trasted with  the  dull  lasping  see-saw  of  common  place.  Take 


22  WILD   SCENES  AND  SONG-BIRDS. 

a  "  minnion  of  the  mud"  who  has  set  up  for  worldly  wisdom, 
and  he  will  dole  you,  measured  by  the  foot-rule,  putrescing 
fragments  of  stale  conventionalities,  until  the  mortal  stench, 
rank  in  your  complaining  nostrils,  offends  your  very  life ; 
but  your  singing  birds  prattle  out  of  fashion,  to  lull  the  dewy 
eye-lids  of  the  eve;  so  do  blithe  young  girls  and  angels,  if 
we  may  judge — as  for  the  morning  stars  that  "  sang  together' 
long  ago,  no  doubt  they  did  it  out  of  all  "rule  and  precedence." 
Would  that  there  were  more  of  this  prattling  out  of  fashion, 
to  battle  with  the  monster  "  monotone  of  Boredom."  But 
hear  what  Mr.  Audubon  himself  writes  concerning  this  quaint 
citizen  of  whom  we  were  speaking,  while  he  pleads  like 
an  old  Priest  of  Brahma  for  mercy  to  all  God's  creatures. 
He  says — 

"  The  Crow  is  an  extremely  shy  bird,  having  found  famil- 
iarity with  man  no  way  to  his  advantage.  He  is  also  cun- 
ning— at  least  he  is  so  called,  because  he  takes  care  of  him- 
self and  his  brood.  The  state  of  anxiety,  I  may  say  of  ter- 
ror, in  which  he  is  constantly  kept,  would  be  enough  to 
spoil  the  temper  of  any  creature.  Almost  every  person  has 
an  antipathy  to  him,  and  scarcely  one  of  his  race  would  be 
left  in  the  land,  did  he  not  employ  all  his  ingenuity,  and 
take  advantage  of  all  his  experience,  in  counteracting  the 
evil  machinations  of  his  enemies.  I  think  I  see  him  perched 
on  the  highest  branch  of  a  tree,  watching  every  object 
around.  He  observes  a  man  on  horseback  travelling  towards 
him;  he  marks  his  movements  in  silence.  No  gun  does  the 
rider  carry — no,  that  is  clear ;  but  perhaps  he  has  pistols  in 
the  holsters  of  his  saddle !  of  that  the  crow  is  not  quite  sure, 
as  he  cannot  either  see  them  or  '  smell  powder.'  He  beats 
the  points  of  his  wings,  jerks  his  tail  once  or  twice,  bows  his 
head,  and  merrily  sounds  the  joy  which  he  feels  at  the  mo- 
ment. Another  man  he  spies  walking  across  the  field  to- 
wards his  stand,  but  he  has  only  a  stick.  Yonder  comes  a 
boy,  shouldering  a  musket,  loaded  with  large  shot,  for  the 
express  purpose  of  shooting  crows !  The  bird  immediately 


NATURE   AND   HER  HARMONIES.  23 

sounds  the  alarm ;  he  repeats  his  cries,  increasing  their  vehe- 
mence the  nearer  his  enemy  advances — all  the  crows,  within 
half  a  mile  round,  are  seen  flying  off,  each  repeating  the  well 
known  notes  of  the  trusty  watchman,  who,  just  as  the  young 
gunner  is  about  to  take  aim,  betakes  himself  to  flight.  But, 
alas!  he  chances,  unwittingly,  to  pass  over  a  sportsman, 
whose  dexterity  is  greater ;  the  mischievous  prowler  aims  his 
piece,  fires ;  down  towards  the  earth,  broken-winged,  falls  the 
luckless  bird  in  an  instant.  '  It  is  nothing  but  a  crow!'  quoth 
the  sportsman,  who  proceeds  in  search  of  game,  and  leaves 
the  poor  creature  to  die  in  the  most  excruciating  agonies." 

Sharp  fellows  they  are,  and  hard  to  be  fooled — those 
crows  !  We  have  often  thought,  that  with  his  dark  plumes 
and  ready  wit,  he  must  be  on  the  other  side  of  "  Styx"  the 
Plutonian  Mercury.  Some  of  the  funniest  things  we  have 
seen  him  do,  that  would  have  made  the  frosty,  antique  Zeno 
laugh  like  a  Bacchante.  He  is  "  exclusively  up  to  snuff,"  in 
all  the  wiles  and  ways  of  this  wicked  world.  Catch  a  crow 
napping,  or  lure  him  within  "point  blank"  if  you  can,  unless 
you  meanly  take  advantage  of  his  passions  or  of  his  social 
feelings. 

As  we  are  fully  launched  in  the  discursive  direction,  we 
may  as  well  give  an  anecdote  of  this  trait : 

We  saw  a  vile,  but  comical  trick,  practiced  upon  him  once 
"  out  West." 

A  fellow  had  caught  a  large  owl  in  a  hollow  tree.  He 
took  him  out  into  an  open  field  much  frequented  by  crows, 
and  tied  him  on  the  top  of  a  low  stake  within  gun-shot  of  a 
stack,  where  he  concealed  himself.  In  a  little  while  the 
crows,  who  are  inveterate  in  their  hatred  of  such  twilight 
enemies,  came  thronging  clamorously  from  all  quarters  about 
the  owl,  and  commenced  buffetting  him  heartily.  The  fellow 
shot  and  killed  several  of  them  before  they  took  warning  in 
the  blindness  of  their  wrath,  but  just  as  they  were  commenc- 
ing to  shear  off,  an  accidental  shot  brought  down  one  merely 
winged. 


24  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIEDS. 

He  came  out  from  his  hiding-place  and  caught  it,  while 
the  brawling  flock  scattered  to  a  respectful  distance.  He 
then,  in  a  singular  whim,  took  the  owl,  and  pinned  it  with 
a  piece  of  twine  and  pegs  firmly  to  the  earth,  on  its  back, 
and  held  the  struggling  crow  within  reach  of  its  claws, 
when  it  was  instantly  griped  with  a  dearth-hold.  Such  a 
rueful  squalling  as  the  poor  wretch  set  up,  may  be  conceived 
by  those  who  know  the  power  of  their  lungs. 

The  genius  did  not  think  it  necessary  to  hide  himself  this 
time,  but  coolly  stood  off  some  thirty  or  forty  paces  to  wait  the 
result.  The  cries  of  their  suffering  brother  brought  not  only 
every  crow  in  the  field  around  him  at  once  to  the  rescue,  but  the 
deafening  hurrah  of  their  united  voices  spread  the  alarm  far  and 
wide,  till  the  whole  district  was  aroused,  and  in  a  little  while 
the  very  sky  was  darkened  with  their  black  wings,  and  ring- 
ing with  their  clamors.  All  the  terrors  of  gunpowder  were 
forgotten,  and  they  were  almost  piled  'over  the  owl  and  his 
victim,  screaming  and  battling  for  his  release,  regardless,  in 
their  valorous  sympathy,  of  the  deadly  hail  which  was  crashing 
amongst  them. 

With  a  relentless  gusto,  the  fellow  continued  to  ply  ram- 
rod and  trigger,  until  the  ground  was  strewed  like  a  battle- 
field with  the  dead  or  fluttering  wounded.  That  "practi- 
cal humorist"  deserved  to  have  been  hung  with  his  head 
down,  till  the  buzzards  picked  his  eyes  out!  This  was 
worse  than  what  Mr.  Audubon  indignantly  terms  "the  base 
artifice  of  laying  poisoned  grain  along  the  fields  to  tempt  the 
poor  birds  1"  Hear  his  merciful  eloquence  reason  with  bigoted 
ignorance  in  behalf  of  this  sadly  persecuted,  but  interesting 
and  useful  bird : 

"  The  crow  devours  myriads  of  grubs  every  day  of  the  year, 
that  might  lay  waste  the  farmer's  fields  ;  it  destroys  quadru- 
peds innumerable,  every  one  of  which  is  an  enemy  to  his 
poultry  and  his  flocks.  Why  then  should  the  farmer  be  so 
ungrateful  when  he  sees  such  services  rendered  to  him  by  his 
providential  friend,  as  to  persecute  that  friend  to  death? 


NATURE  AND  HER  HARMONIES.  25 

Unless  he  plead  ignorance,  surely  he  ought  to  be  found 
guilty  at  the  bar  of  common  sense.  Were  the  soil  of  the 
United  States  like  that  of  some  other  countries,  nearly  ex- 
hausted by  long-continued  cultivation,  human  selfishness 
in  such  a  matter  might  be  excused,  and  our  people  might 
look  on  our  crows  as  other  people  look  on  theirs ;  but  every 
individual  in  the  land  is  aware  of  the  superabundance  of 
food  that  exists  among  us,  and  of  which  a  portion  may  well 
be  spared  for  the  feathered  beings  that  tend  to  enhance  our 
pleasures — by  the  sweetness  of  their  song — the  innocence  of 
their  lives — or  their  curious  habits*  Did  not  every  American 
open  his  door  and  his  heart  to  the  wearied  traveller,  and  af- 
ford him  food,  comfort  and  rest,  I  would  at  once  give  up  the 
argument ;  but  when  I  know  by  experience,  the  generosity 
of  the  people,  I  cannot  but  wish  that  they  would  reflect  a 
little,  and  become  more  indulgent  towards  our  poor,  humble, 
harmless,  and  ever  most  serviceable  bird — the  crow !" 

A  crow-roost  is  one  of  the  most  singular  places  that  ever 
mortal  found  himself  in.  Mr.  Audubon  speaks  of  their 
roosting  by  the  "  margins  of  ponds,  lakes  and  rivers,  upon 
the  rank  weeds  and  cat-tails,"  but  I  met  them  while  hunt- 
ing among  the  hills  of  the  Green  Eiver  country,  Kentucky, 
roosting  in  a  very  different  manner.  I  saw  them  stream- 
ing over  my  head,  in  great  numbers,  one  evening,  and  hear- 
ing a  most  unusual  noise  in  the  direction  they  all  seemed  to 
pursue,  my  curiosity  induced  me  to  follow  on,  and  see  what 
it  meant.  As  I  advanced,  the  sound  grew  in  volume,  until 
at  last,  as  I  rounded  the  abrupt  angle  of  a  hill  side,  covered 
with  a  tall  growth  of  young  black  oaks,  it  burst  upon  me 
with  a  commingled  roar  of  barking  notes  and  beating  wings, 
that  was  positively  stunning.  All  around  for  the  space  of 
half  an  acre,  the  cracking-  trees  were  bent  beneath  multiplied 
thousands  of  crows,  shifting  and  flapping,  with  unceasing 
movement ;  every  one  screaming  his  vociferous  caw  in  bois- 
terous emulation.  It  resembled  a  pigeon-roost  very  closely, 
except  that  it  was  not  so  extensive  or  grand ;  and  it  differed, 


26  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIEDS. 

furthermore,  in  the  fact,  that  by  the  time  dark  had  set  in, 
they  were  all  quiet — sitting,  black  and  still,  in  heaped  cones, 
as  they  were  denned  against  the  dim  sky ;  while  in  a  pigeon 
roost,  the  heavy  thundering  of  restless  wings  continues  to 
roll  on,  without  interval,  until  just  before  day. 

This  interesting  fact  in  relation  to  the  habitudes  of  the  crow, 
and  which  I  have  observed  to  occur  only  in  the  winter,  when 
they  need  the  animal  heat  arising  from  the  mutual  contact  of 
their  many  bodies  as  a  protection  from  the  extremities  of  cold, 
is  an  extraordinary  example  of  that  reasoning  adaptation  of 
the  means  to  the  end  upon  which  I  insist. 

This  same  incident,  of  the  departure  upon  so  large  a  scale  of 
every  creature  from  its  usual  habits,  under  the  force  of  cir- 
cumstances, is  only  paralleled  by  another  fact  which,  though 
not  mentioned  either  in  any  of  the  books  of  Natural  History, 
I  know  to  be  strictly  true.  It  refers  to  an  occasional  mode 
of  Hybernating  resorted  to  by  the  Prairie  Hen,  or  Pinnated 
Grouse. 

The  most  extraordinary  phenomenon  produced  by  the  neces- 
sities of  the  climate,  and  as  a  protection  against  the  terrible 
winds  which  sweep  over  these  apparently  illimitable  levels,  at 
the  approach  of  winter,  consists,  in  the  assembling  of  these 
birds,  from  a  distance  of  many  miles  around,  to  roost  on  the 
same  spot,  something  after  the  manner  of  the  Wild  Pigeon. 
This  fact  seems  also  to  have  escaped  Mr.  Audubon's  notice. 

At  the  opening  of  winter,  a  spot  is  selected,  on  the  open 
prairies,  in  the  upper  part  of  the  Missouri  country,  which  is 
more  sheltered  than  the  surrounding  region,  by  the  character 
of  the  ground,  from  the  biting  force  of  the  north-west  winds. 
Here  the  Prairie  Hens  begin  to  assemble  early  in  the  even- 
ing, and  by  the  time  dusk  comes  on  immense  numbers  are 
collected.  They  approach  the  scene  in  small  flocks,  in  a  leis- 
urely manner,  by  short  flights.  They  approach  the  place  of 
gathering  silently,  with  nothing  of  that  whirr  of  wings,  for 
which  they  are  noted  when  they  are  suddenly  put  up,  but 
they  make  ample  amends  when  they  arrive  ;  as  in  the  Pigeon 


NATURE  AND  HER  HARMONIES.  27 

roost,  there  is  a  continual  roar,  caused  by  the  restless  shifting 
of  the  birds,  and  sounds  of  impatient  struggle  emitted  by 
them,  which  can  be  heard  distinctly  for  several  miles.  The 
numbers  collected  are  incalculably  immense,  since  the  space 
covered  sometimes  extends  for  over  a  mile  in  length,  with  a 
breadth  determined  by  the  character  of  the  ground. 

This  is  a  most  astonishing  scene.  When  approached  in 
the  early  part  of  the  night  on  horseback,  the  hubbub  is 
strangely  discordant,  and  overwhelmingly  deafening.  They 
will  permit  themselves  to  be  killed  in  great  numbers  with 
sticks,  or  any  convenient  weapon,  without  the  necessity  of 
using  guns.  They,  however,  when  frequently  disturbed  in 
the  first  of  the  season,  will  easily  change  their  roosting-place, 
but  when  the  heavy  snows  have  fallen,  by  melting  which  by 
the  heat  of  their  bodies,  and  by  trampling  it  down,  they  have 
formed  a  sort  of  sheltered  yard,  the  outside  walls  of  which  de- 
fend them  against  the  winds,  they  are  not  easily  driven  away 
by  any  degree  of  persecution.  Indeed,  at  this  time,  they  be- 
come so  emaciated  as  to  afford  but  little  inducement  to  any 
human  persecutors,  by  whom  they  are  seldom  troubled,  in- 
deed, on  account  of  the  remoteness  of  these  locations  ;  from 
foxes,  wolves,  hawks,  and  owls,  &c.,  their  natural  enemies, 
they  have,  of  course,  to  expect  no  mercy  at  any  time. 

The  noise  of  their  restless  duckings,  flutterings  and  shift- 
ings,  begins  to  subside  a  few  hours  after  dark.  The  birds 
have  now  arranged  themselves  for  the  night,  nestled  as  close 
as  they  can  be  wedged — every  bird  with  his  breast  turned  to 
the  quarter  in  which  the  wind  may  be  prevailing.  This  scene  is 
one  of  the  most  curious  that  can  be  imagined,  especially  when 
they  have  the  moonlight  on  the  snow  to  contrast  with  their 
dark  backs.-  At  this  time,  they  may  be  killed  by  cart-loads, 
as  only  those  in  the  immediate  neighborhood  of  the  aggressor 
are  disturbed,  apparently.  They  rise  to  the  height  of  a  few 
feet,  with  a  stupefied  and  aimless  fluttering,  and  plunge  into 
the  snow,  within  a  short  distance,  where  they  are  easily  taken 
by  the  hand.  In  these  helpless  conditions,  such  immense 


28  WILD  SCENES  AND   SONG-BIRDS. 

numbers  are  destroyed  that  the  family  would  be  in  danger 
of  rapid  extermination,  but  that  the  fecundity  of  the  survi- 
vors nearly  keeps  pace  with  the  many  fatalities  to  Avhich 
they  are  liable. 

These  birds  are  distributed  over  an  immense  northern  ter- 
ritory, and  though  they  are,  everywhere  in  the  more  shel- 
tered regions,  found  to  exhibit  the  propensity  to  collect  in 
numbers  greater  or  smaller  during  the  extreme  cold  weather 
in  low  spots  where  they  will  have  some  shelter  from  the  acci- 
dental peculiarities  of  the  locality,  yet  nowhere  else  except 
upon  just  these  wide  plains  are  they  to  be  found  in  such  as- 
tonishing congregations  as  we  have  here  described.  The 
universal  habit  of  all  this  family  of  Gallinacise  is  rather  to 
run  and  roost  in  little  squads  or  flocks.  Whence  this  differ- 
ence in  the  habits  of  the  same  bird.  Who  knows  ?  Ah, 
whence  the  difference  ?  This  is  the  question  ! 

Now  your  metaphysical  philosophers  are  as  thick  as  black- 
birds in  cherry-time  among  us — and  quite  as  fussy.  Every 
village  pot-house  has  a  genius  in  ragged  breeches  and  with  a 
long  score  of  "chalks"  against  him,  who  will  prove  to  you 
that  Christianity  is  a  delusion,  and  the  doctrine  of  immor- 
tality all  nonsense,  by  such  imposing  logic  as  that  "you  can 
neither  see  a  soul,  hear  a  soul,  taste  a  soul,  smell  a  soul, 
nor — "  an  astounding  climax  which  we  would  think  of  doubt- 
ing to  be  true  in  his  case — "  feel  a  soul !"  But,  let  them 
alone.  It  is  all  right.  This  is  an  age  of  progression  and 
discovery. 

"How  many  a  vulgar  Oato  has  compelled 
His  energies,  no  longer  tameless  then, 
To  mould  a  pin  or  fabricate  a  nail! 

How  many  a  Newton,  to  whose  passive  ken,"  &c. 

Let  them  alone,  we  say.  There  is  no  telling  what  these 
"vulgar"  Catos  and  Kewtons  may  not  accomplish.  The 
chronicles  of  olden  times  are  filled  with  wondrous  tales, 
showing  how  they,  once  in  awhile,  shake  off  the  crust,  and 


NATURE  AND  HER  HARMONIES.  29 

step  forth  suddenly  before  the  world's  eye,  cap-a-pie,  in 
shining  armor,  becoming  men  of  renown  in  the  fight  of  faith, 
or  the  weary  marches  of  science.  We  have  a  strong  incli- 
nation to  set  up  for  one  of  these  vulgar  JSTewtons  ourselves, 
with  the  permission  of  the  benevolent  reader,  as  we  are  about 
to  be  guilty  of  an  audacious  speculation — and  if  we  were  not 
perhaps  as  much  in  joke  as  in  earnest,  we  might  be  glad  to  dep- 
recate responsibility,  on  the  plea  of  "  unsophisticated  genius," 
&c. ;  but  though  one  sense  of  "  unsophisticated"  may  suit  us 
well  enough,  yet  we  hardly  dare  to  claim  shelter  under  any 
other  sense  of  a  name  so  sacred  in  the  mythos  of  human  hope, 

•It  may  be  only  one  of  those  dreams  which,  like  the  poet's 
ideal,  haunts  men  from  and  in  boyhood.  We  were  then,  as 
is  usual,  much  fonder  of  the  great  wide  pages,  shadowy,  wav- 
ing, glittering  and  green,  of  nature's  writing,  than  all  the 
black-letter  tomes  that  ever  wearied  eye  of  scholar.  And 
while  a  scape-grace  and  hopeless  truant,  we  paddled,  bare-foot, 
through  the  pebbly  brook,  tore  our  juvenile  trousers  climb- 
ing for  young  squirrels,  or  winning  a  freckled  necklace  of 
birds'  eggs  for  our  blue-eyed  sweetheart.  We  had  a  faint 
conception  that  the  language  we  read  there  should  be  trans- 
lated !  Not  that  which  we  read  in  the  blue  eyes,  specially, 
do  we  mean ;  but  on  the  general  page  of  the  living  revela- 
tion ;  for  as  we  said 'our  incorrigible  visuals  would  not  even 
then  permit  us  to  see  that  Reason  and  Instinct  were  alto- 
gether unlike. 

We  took  in  our  hands  a  definition  of  Reason,  accepted  by 
the  sages,  and  went  out  among  these  sentient,  breathing 
forms  of  life,  condemned  by  them  to  the  blind  guidance  and 
fatality  of  Instinct,  that  we  might  compare  the  theory  of  one 
with  the  reality  of  the  other. 

The  song-bird  twittered  at  us ;  the  wild  deer  turned  to 
stare ;  the  squirrel  sputtered  from  his  nut-crammed  jaws,  and 
the  insects  buzzed  curiously  around  us — for  the  story  got  out 
that  there  was  "  a  chiel  amang  'em  takin'  notes,"  and  they 
did  not  understand  but  that  we  meant  them  some  imperti- 


30  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIRDS. 

nence ;  but  they  soon  found  out  that  we  were  harmless,  at 
least,  and  grew  reconciled. 

Many  a  calm  hour  we  spent  among  the  cool,  dim  aisles  of  the 
mighty  forests,  still  as  the  dark  trunks  around  us,  watching 
now  the  Baltimore  oriole  with  coy  taste,  select  a  twig  to 
hang  her  cradle  from,  and  when  her  motherly  care  was  sat- 
isfied that  a  particular  one  hung  clear  beyond  the  reach  of 
the  dreaded  snake,  or  mischievous  climbers,  one  and  all, — 
that  there  was  a  tuft  of  leaves  above  it,  which  would  pre- 
cisely shield  it  from  the  noontide  sun — then  commences  her 
airy  fabric. 

How  ingeniously  she  avails  herself  of  the  forks  a'nd 
notches  to  twist  the  first  important  thread  around !  How 
housewife-like  she  plaits  and  weaves  the  grassy  fibres !  The 
unmanageable  horse-hair,  too,  is  used ;  how  soberly  she  plies 
her  long,  sharp  bill  and  delicate  feet !  Now  she  drops  that 
thread  as  too  rotten  to  be  trusted,  and  reprovingly  sends  off 
her  careless,  chattering  mate  to  get  another.  He  is  proud 
of  his  fine  coat,  and  dissipates  his  time  in  carolling ;  but  in 
her  prudent  creed,  sweet  songs  won't  build  a  home  for  the 
little  folk,  and  so  she  very  properly  makes  the  idle  fellow 
work. 

At  last,  after  a  deal  of  sewing,  webbing,  roofing, — and 
scolding,  too,  tae  while — the  house  is  finished,  thatch,  door, 
and  all.  The  softest  velvet  from  the  mullen  stalk  must 
line  it  now  ;  and  then  elate  upon  the  topmost  bough,  she  si- 
lently upturns  her  bill  toward  heaven,  while  her  mate  pours 
forth  their  joy  for  labors  done,  in  thrilling  gushes ! 

In  those  old  times,  sitting  upon  a  gnarled  root,  I  would  bend 
for  hours  over  some  thronged  city  of  the  ants.  Why,  how 
is  this  ?  Here  from  the  great  entrance — roads  branch  off  on 
every  side.  How  clean,  and  smooth,  and  regular,  they  are  ! 
See,  yonder  is  a  dead  limb  fallen  across  the  course.  Amaze- 
ment !  A  tunnel !  A  tunnel  I  they  have  sunk  it  beneath 
the  obstruction  too  heavy  for  the  power  of  their  mechanics  I 
Follow  the  winding  track.  See,  that  thick  turf  of  grass  !  It 


NATURE  AND  HER  HARMONIES.  31 

is  easier  to  go  round  it  than  to  cut  through  it.  And  there, 
behold  a  mountain  pebble  in  the  way ;  see  how  the  road  is 
made  to  sweep  in  a  free  curve  round  the  base. 

Lay  now  that  small  stone  across  the  narrow  way !  See  ! 
The  common  herd — the  stream  of  dull-eyed  laborers — how 
they  are  confounded  by  the  interruption.  They  fall  back  upon 
each  other — all  is  confusion.  The  precious  burdens  they 
bore  with  so  much  care,  are  dropped — to  and  fro  they  run 
— all  is  consternation  and  alarm. 

But  look  !  That  portly,  lazy  fellow,  who  seemed  to  have 
nothing  to  do  but  to  strut  back  and  forth  in  the  sun,  now 
wakes  up.  He  rushes  to  the  scene.  All  give  way  from 
his  path,  and  close  crowdingly  in  his  wake.  He  is  one 
evidently  having  authority.  He  climbs  upon  the  stone ; 
runs  over  it  rapidly ;  measures  it  with  his  antennas ;  and 
down  he  glides  among  the  still,  expectant  crowd.  Here, 
there,  yonder,  everywhere,  in  a  moment — he  selects  among 
the  multitude  those  best  fitted  for  the  purpose  with  which 
his  sagacious  head  is  full — touches  them  with  the  antennas 
of  command,  and  each  one,  obedient,  hurries  to  the  stone. 

No  more  confusion — every  one  is  in  his  place  awaiting 
orders,  not  daring  to  begin  yet.  He  is  back  now  to  the 
stone.  The  signal  is  given  !  Each  of  the  selected  workers 
lay  hold  of  it.  See,  how  they  tug  and  strain  ! 

What  ?  Not  strength  enough.  An  additional  number  are 
chosen.  They  seize  hold.  Now  they  move  it !  My  lord,  the 
overseer  does  not  put  a  hand  to  it  himself,  or  a  pincer  either, 
— but,  see  how  he  plays  round,  keeps  the  crowd  out  of  the 
way,  and  directs  the  whole. 

It  is  done !  The  stone  is  rolled  out  from  the  highway, 
and  we  will  not  put  another  one  on  it;  it  is  cruel  thus 
to  use  our  giant's  strength  like  a  giant,  and  we  are  satis- 
fled.  The  little  laborers  resume  their  burdens ;  away  they 
go  streaming  on  to  the  citadel ;  while  the  great  man  re- 
lapses suddenly  into  the  old  air  of  sluggish  dignity. 

But  follow  that  road  ;  it  leads  an  hundred  yards — clearly 


32  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIEDS. 

traceable  through,  above,  under,  around,  all  impediments : 
here  the  main  road  branches  off,  and  is  lost,  or  it  ends  at  the 
tree  with  many  insects  on  its  bark,  or  at  some  great  deposit  of 
favorite  food  that  has  been  found ;  and  all  this  pains  and  labor 
have  been  expended  in  digging  that  road  to  secure  the  con- 
venience of  transportation ! 

Talk  of  your  Simplon  or  your  Erie  Canal,  or  your  hun- 
dreds of  miles  of  human  railroads!  Wonderful  Instinct, 
indeed ! 

Dig  away  the  earth  carefully,  and  look  into  that  subterra- 
nean city.  Here  are  streets,  galleries,  arches  and  domes, 
bridges,  granaries,  nurseries,  walls,  rooms  of  state — aye,  pal- 
aces— cells  for  laborers,  all  the  features  and  fixtures,  diverse 
and  infinite  of  a  peopled  city  of  humanity ! 

But  see,  a  war  has  broken  out  with  a  neighboring  city ! 
Marvellous  sight  I  The  eager  legions  pour  in  a  black  flood 
from  the  gates.  The  chief  men  and  captains  of  the  peo- 
ple distinguished,  not  by  plumes  and  stars,  and  orders,  but 
by  their  greater  size,  and  the  formidable  strength  of  their 
pincers.  They  are  marshalled  into  bands — they  know  the 
strength  of  discipline  and  military  science !  In  one  wide, 
sweeping,  unbroken  line,  they  pour  upon  the  enemy's  town. 

The  fight  is  desperate — hand  to  hand — pincer  to  pin- 
cer ;  for  it  is  a  battle  for  dear  life — liberty  and  larvae !  The 
vanquished  are  dragged  into  slavery;  the  larvae  carried 
off  and  tenderly  nourished  by  the  conquerors,  and  when 
they  grow  up  are  made  helots  of,  hewers  of  wood  and  draw- 
ers of  water. 

Strangely  elastic  Instinct  this !  It  we  combine,  compare, 
/  deduce — is  not  there  something  like  combination,  compari- 
son, deduction,  here  ? 

The  mocking  bird  is,  in  many  respects,  characterized  by 
the  most  remarkable  sagacity.  "We  watched  a  pair  of  them 
once  build  their  nest  in  a  low  thorn  bush,  growing  in  what  is 
called  a  "  sink-hole,"  in  the  West.  This  had  once  or  twice  been 
filled  with  water  by  the  heavy  rains,  but  at  long  intervals. 


NATURE  AND  HER  HARMONIES.  33 

This  year  the  flood  came.  The  birds  had  hatched,  and 
four  little  downy,  yellow,  gaping  mouths  could  be  seen 
in  the  nest.  The  water  commenced  rising  very  rapidly  in 
the  sink.  The  birds  became  uneasy ;  they  fluttered  and 
screamed,  and  made  a  wonderful  to-do.  At  last  one  of  them 
flew  down  to  the  last  twig  above  the  rising  water.  He  sat 
there  looking  closely  at  it  till  it  rose  about  his  feet,  and  then, 
suddenly,  with  a  loud  chirp,  flew  away,  followed  by  the 
mate. 

We  thought  they  had  deserted  their  young.  "  Unnatural 
creatures !"  I  exclaimed.  And  if  a  gun  had  been  convenient,  I 
think  I  should  have  had  no  scruple  in  shooting  them. 

In  about  half-an-hour  the  water  had  risen  to  the  bottom 
of  the  nest !  when,  'suddenly  to  my  joy  and  penitent  shame, 
the  birds  were  back,  flew  down  into  the  nest  and  off  again ! 
each  bearing  a  young  one.  They  were  not  gone  a  minute, 
when,  straight  as  the  flight  of  an  arrow,  and  as  swift,  they 
were  back,  the  other  two  little  ones  were  carried  off,  and  in 
a  minute  the  nest  was  afloat. 

Close  calculation,  that !  I  followed  in  the  direction  they 
went,  and,  after  some  search,  found  the  callow  family  safe 
and  snug  in  an  old  nest,  which  they  had  prepared  for  their 
reception,  as  soon  as  they  became  convinced  the  water  must 
reach  them.  Instinct  must  have  wide  play,  indeed,  to  ac- 
count for  this. 

I  saw  a  large,  heavy  cockroach,  fully  an  inch  long,  fall  into 
the  web  of  a  small  spider.  The  great  weight  of  the  insect, 
with  the  height  from  which  it  fell,  was  sufficient  to  tear 
through  the  web,  and  it  would  have  fallen  clear,  but  that  the 
long,  sharp  claws,  which  arm  the  extremities  of  the  hindmost 
pair  of  legs,  gathered  a  sufficient  quantity  of  the  fibres  as 
they  rolled  down  the  net,  to  sustain  the  weight  of  the  cock- 
roach, who  thus  hung  dangling  by  the  heels,  head  down- 
wards, and  the  body  free. 

Out  rushed  the  little  spider,  not  so  large  as  a  cherry-stone. 
What  could  it  do  with  such  a  monster  ?  You  shall  see. 

3 


34  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIKDS. 

Without  an  instant's  confusion,  or  hesitation,  it  commenced 
rapidly  throwing  a  new  web  with  its  hinder  legs  or  spinners, 
over  the  two  claws  that  were  entangled,  so  that  the  hold 
there  might  first  be  strengthened.  The  cockroach  struggled 
desperately — his  weight  began  to  tear  away  the  web  from 
the  beam. 

The  spider  felt  that  all  was  giving  way — and  faster  than 
the  eye  could  follow  him,  ran  back  and  forth  along  the 
breaking  cords,  from  the  beam  to  the  heels  of  the  monster, 
carrying  a  new  thread  from  one  to  the  other  each  time,  until 
the  breakage  was  arrested,  and  he  was  satisfied  that  the  whole 
would  bear  all  its  weight  and  efforts. 

He  then  returned  cautiously  to  the  charge,  and,  after 
a  dozen  trials,  succeeded  in  webbing  the  second  pair  of  legs, 
and  bound  them  down  in  spite  of  the  tremendous  writhings 
of  the  great  black  "keast.  The  third  pair  were  near  the  head, 
and  he  could  not  succeed  in  binding  them  from  the  front,  so 
he  tried  another  tack ;  he  crawled  along  the  hard  sheath  of 
the  back  (it  hung  back  downward),  and  commenced,  with  in- 
conceivable rapidity,  throwing  his  web  over  the  head.  The 
roach  seemed  to  be  greatly  frightened  by  this,  and  made 
-jaore  furious  efforts  than  ever  to  get  loose. 

The  cords  from  above  began  to  give  way  again.  The 
spider  darted  along  them  again  as  before,  till  they  were 
strengthened  a  second  time.  He  now  tried  another  manoeu- 
vre. We  had  noticed  him  frequently  attempting  to  bite 
through  the  sheath  armor  of  the  roach,  but  he  seemed  to 
have  failed  in  piercing  it.  He  now  seemed  determined  to 
catch  the  two  fore  legs  that  were  free.  After  twenty  trials 
at  least,  he  noosed  one  of  them,  and  soon  had  it  under  his 
control.  This  pair  of  legs  was  much  more  delicate  than  the 
others ;  he  instantly  bit  through  the  captured  one. 

The  poison  was  not  sufficient  to  affect  the  large  mass  of 
the  roach  a  great  deal,  but  the  leg  seemed  to  give  it  much 
pain,  and  it  bent  its  head  forward  to  caress  the  wound  with 
its  jaws — and  now  the  object  of  the  cunning  spider  was  ap- 


NATUKE  AND  HER  HARMONIES.  35 

parent.  He  ran  instantly  to  the  old  position  he  had  been 
routed  from  on  the  back  of  the  neck,  and  while  the  roach  was 
employed  in  soothing  the  smart  of  the  bite,  he  succeeded  in 
enveloping  the  head  from  the  back  in  such  a  way  as  to  pre- 
vent the  roach  from  straightening  out  again ;  and  in  a  little 
while  more  had  him  bound  in  that  position,  and  entirely 
surrounded  by  the  web. 

A  few  more  last  agonies  and  the  roach  was  dead ;  for  the 
neck,  bent  forward  in  this  way,  exposed  a  vital  part  beneath 
the  sheath ;  and  we  left  the  spider  quietly  luxuriating  upon  the 
fruits  of  his  weary  contest.  This  battle  between  brute  force  and 
subtle  sagacity  lasted  one  hour  and  a  half,  and  if  the  history  of 
Reason  in  our  Race  can  show  a  more  remarkable  conquest 
of  superior  mind  over  animal  strength,  we  hope  the  wiles  of 
the  sagacious  victor  will  not  be  robbed  of  their  glory  by  being 
stigmatized  as  instinctive. 

But  the  books  of  Natural  History  are  crowded  with  ten 
thousand  such  illustrations ;  no  just  details  of  the  habitudes 
of  any  form  of  animal  life  has  been,  or  can  be  given,  which 
will  not  furnish  such.  Though  the  narrators  themselves  per- 
sist in  naming  these  acts  instinctive,  yet  common  judgment 
must  teach  that  no  possible  sense  of  instinct  can  be  made  sat- 
isfactorily to  account  for  them. 

Every  day  my  horse  or  dog — to  go  no  further — forced  the 
conviction,  that  this  must  be  so ;  that  they  shared  with  me, 
to  a  certain  point,  reason  and  emotion.  The  most  eager  and 
accurate  investigation  showed  us  that  the  whole  argument  for 
instinct  was  based  upon  error;  that  the  facts  upon  which  its 
most  ingenious  defenders  formed  their  strong  positions,  melted 
into  thin  air  before  a  close  examination,  and  proved  to  be 
pedantic  whims  or  mistakes  of  old  writers,  perpetuated  by 
the  careless  ignorance  of  modern  bookmakers. 

Since  such  men  as  Humboldt,  'Cuvier  and  Audubon 
have  taught  the  world  how  the  meaning  of  the  sublime 
pages  of  the  living  revelation  was  to  be  arrived  at — have 
forced  upon  their  fellows  a  realization  of  the  astounding 


36  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIKDS. 

discovery,  that  each  individual  of  them  possessed  eyes  of  his 
own,  and  might  lawfully  use  them  for  himself,  and  that  it  was 
only  by  the  exercise  of  this  primitive  and  obsolete  right  that 
truth  was  to  be  known — the  universal  mind  has  been  restless 
on  this  point. 

Who  has  not  noticed  how  common  a  thing  it  is,  in  the 
modern  book  of  travel,  to  meet  with  surmises,  doubts,  hints, 
and  even  broad  denials,  in  regard  to  the  doctrine  of  in- 
stinct. Scarcely  a  relation  of  a  trait  or  fact  in  natural  his- 
tory can  be  met  with  now,  to  which  something  of  this  kind 
is  not  applied.  These  men  have  left  Locke,  and  Brown,  and 
Stewart,  upon  the  mouldy  shelves  at  home,  and  there  is  no 
stern  eye  of  scholastic  bigot  to  rebuke  them,  out  amidst  the 
wilds  and  freedom  of  nature ;  and  removed  from  the  imme- 
diate terror  of  the  lash,  they  dare  to  write  what  they  see,  and 
draw  their  own  conclusions. 

Shakspeare  has  writ  the  motto  of  these  times — 

"  What  custom  wills,  in  all  things  should  we  do  it, 
The  dust  on  antique  time  would  lie  unswept, 
And  mountainous  error  be  too  highly  heaped 
For  truth  to  overpeer  !" 

Are  we  not  in  danger  of  " mountainous  error"  here? 

Aye !  and  since  by  its  side  the  tumulus  of  Truth,  under  the 
slow  heaping  of  atoms  through  the  ages,  has  grown  and  grown, 
until  now  even  a  pigmy  upon  tip-toe  may  out-peer  and  shout 
to  the  multitude  in  shadow  beneath — shout  that  pigmy  must ! 

Though  the  spectacled  and  lamp-dried  book-man  may  shake 
his  withered  sides,  and  curl  his  thin  lips  in  scorn,  yet  will 
that  small  voice  be  made  articulate,  the  voice  which  has  so 
long  been  struggling  in  mankind  for  utterance.  It  will  pro- 
nounce, there  are  no  blind,  fatal  impulses  known  to  Na- 
ture! Keason  is  the  impulse  of  volition!  and  whatever 
animal  life  exists,  whether  in  the  dumb  stock  or  stone,  the 
herb  or  molecule,  brute  or  man,  Keason  directs  it ! 

The  self-same  principle  which,  through  our  organization, 


NATURE  AND  HER  HARMONIES.  37 

governs  or  wields  the  material  forces,  acting  through  the  or- 
ganization of  the  ant,  the  atom,  and  the  elephant,  produces  like 
results  to  the  full  extent  of  the  organic  and  creative  intention 
in  each,  and  therefore  this  organization  is  the  law  of  Reason  ! 

Now  that  our  conscience  has  been  unburdened,  and  that  still 
small  voice  had  gone  forth  with  this  portentous  announce- 
ment— we  shrink  upon  ourselves  abashed  and  horrified ! 
Fear  cometh  upon  us  1  What  is  it  we  have  done  ?  After  all 
this  flourish  of  trumpets,  little  more  than  prolong  the  echoes 
of  dull  and  stale  materialism  ? 

Yes,  this  is  it  I  If  Reason  be  determined  by  our  organiza- 
tion, then,  of  course,  the  dissolution  of  the  one,  is  the  end 
of  the  other !  Who  could  fail  to  recognize  the  heavy  and 
assinine  front  of  this  ancient  philosophic  bore?  Shame! 
shame !  The  metaphysician,  to  get  his  boat  staved  against 
the  very  rock  the  light-house  stands  on  ? 

We  writhe  like  a  wounded  worm.  But  one  truth  is  as 
much  as  the  mind  can  possess  and  enter  into  at  a  time.  Long 
have  we  paused,  and  wrestled  on  the  threshold  of  the  nest. 

What!  the  thick  rayless  gloom,  hopeless  and  weary,  of 
this  sensual  creed,  to  be  our  abiding  place!  Fairly  and 
well,  by  the  clear  lamp  of  Truth,  have  we  counted  our 
footsteps  heretofore.  From  link  to  link,  carefully  have  we 
traced  the  interfering  grades  through  all  forms,  and  seen  and 
felt  the  universe  of  matter  an  harmonious  whole — the  harp 
of  God ! — each  string  accordant  with  the  string  last  touched, 
and  melting  in  the  tone  of  that  before.  No  jarring  notes — 
no  discord !  but  order  the  law,  and  music,  such  as  seraphim 
can  hear  and  mortals  feel,  the  expression ! 

Then  comes  a  dim  hint  of  what  we  seek  and  yearn  for,  like 
a  distant  ray  of  daylight  to  a  lost  wanderer  in  a  cavern  : 

"  Such  sweet  compulsion  doth  in  music  lie, 
To  lull  the  Daughters  of  Necessity, 
And  keep  unsteady  Nature  to  her  law, 
And  the  low  world  in  measured  motion  draw 
After  the  heavenly  tune." 


38  WILD  SCENES  AND   SONG-BIKDS. 

Since  Jubal's  pipe  awakened  the  young  echo,  so  have  the 
sage  poets  sung. 

The  poets  1  Who  were  the  poets  ?  The  kings  of  mind  1 
Always  their  white  swift  feet  have  led  the  van  of  science, 
and  the  quick  flash  of  their  luminous  eyes  has  startled  the 
darkness  of  caverns  where  treasures  were,  and  showed  to 
the  gaping  crowd  the  heaps  of  gems  1 

It  is  their  mission  to  discover.  They  leave  to  those  who 
follow  them  now,  to  drag  the  riches  forth  to  day,  classify, 
name,  arrange,  and  add  to  the  treasury  of  general  science. 

In  many  a  measured  legend  and  guise  of  graphic  allegory, 
they  have  said,  and  sung  that  harmony, — order — was  the  su- 
preme law  of  God's  created  universe — the  highest  revelation 
of  himself — the  garment  that  we  know  him  by,  woofed  of  stars 
and  clouds,  colored  by  the  many  tints  of  the  moon  and  sun, 
when  they  play  on  these,  or  on  the  shining  earth,  with  her 
waters,  mountains,  trees,  and  herbs,  and  myriad  forms  that 
creep,  and  walk,  and  run,  and  fly,  and  swim — many  and  di- 
vers— a  life  and  will  to  each,  yet  all  softly  and  sweetly 
blending  in  those  mellow  hues  which  make  it  beautiful  when 
seen  from  heaven — worthy  to  robe  the  limbs  of  Infinite 
might. 

"Well  then,  if  the  laws  of  gradation  be  necessary  to  these 
harmonies,  and  as  applied  to  organization  and  form,  consist- 
ent with  them,  must  not  the  same  law  apply  to  all  forms  of 
animal  life,  when  introduced  into  these  grades  of  organized 
matter  ? 

One  general  principle,  animal  life,  must  animate  them  all. 
Why  are  they  differently  organized  ?  Why  are  they  not  each 
after  the  same  structure,  size,  and  shape  ? 

The  harmonious  diversity  of  creation  requires  it  should  be 
so.  The  principle  of  life,  passing  into  this  variety  of  struc- 
ture, gives  this  required  diversity  of  result.  Though  the 
principle  be  the  same,  the  machine  acted  upon  is  different 
— in  the  higher  forms  of  organization,  the  principle  of  life  is 
active :  in  the  lower,  passive. 


JSTATUKE  AND  HER  HARMONIES.  39 

Those  which  are  to  be  active,  must  have  the  means  of 
self-direction  ;  it  would  be  fatal  to  the  harmonies  so  justlv 
guarded,  should  they  shoot  into  space,  sphereless  and  aim- 
less, the  restless  life  hurrying  them  to  motion  till  they  were 
self-destroyed,  and  confusion  carried  everywhere. 

No,  they  shall  have  senses  which  shall  inform  the  life  within 
of  all  internal  things,  through  the  retina  of  consciousness.  All 
impressions,  then,  of  outward  things,  their  qualities,  etc.,  shall 
be  retained  upon  that  retina,  and  shall  be  called  experience 
of  life — memory.  This  experience  shall  be  to  the  principle 
of  life  for  a  guide,  and  it  shall  have  a  power  given  it  called 
Reason,  which  is  the  highest  result  of  the  principle  of  life,  acting 
through  organization,  educated  by  the  experience  of  the  senses  \ 

This  education  will  be  justly  proportionate  with  the  power 
of  the  senses  to  inform :  and  therefore,  in  the  precise  ratio 
of  the  sensitiveness,  delicacy,  and  complexity  of  the  senses, 
will  be  the  corresponding  attributes  of  this  educated  life, 
Eeason. 

It  is  harmonious  that  it  should  be  so !  animal  existence 
is  confined  to  a  material  earth.  The  forms  and  objects 
co-existing  there,  are  to  it  all  that  necessity  demands.  Its 
powers,  capabilities,  wants,  are  filled  and  circumscribed  by 
these.  The  end  and  object  of  its  being,  first  defined  by  organi- 
zation, is  carried  to  the  ultimate  highest  creative  aim  or  end, 
by  Eeason.  The  mite  which  builds  its  coral  cell — the  savage 
who  piles  his  hut  of  bark,  are  equally  guided  by  this  prin- 
ciple to  the  consummation  of  all  their  sheer  physical  necessi- 
ties, and  gregarious  or  social  duties. 

The  cause  why  Reason  is  not  progressive  in  other  forms 
of  animal  life,  as  we  see  it  to  have  been  in  man,  we  suppose 
to  be  that, — as  man  is  a  complex  being,  so  the  animal  is  a 
simple  one. 

The  organic  necessities  of  the  bee  led  its  experience 
simply  and  directly  to  the  discovery  of  a  mathematical 
law,  by  which  the  form  and  arrangement  of  its  cells  was 
perfected :  though  it  knows  nothing  of  mathematics  as  an 


40  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIRDS. 

aggregate  system  of  facts,  yet  the  wants  of  its  social  habi- 
tudes, crowding  it  in  great  numbers  into  a  small  space,  soon 
led  to  the  assertion  of  the  utmost  power  its  experience  was 
capable  of  furnishing  reason  with,  in  regard  to  those  lines 
and  angles  by  the  size  of  which  space  might  best  be  econo- 
mised. 

The  result  was  as  we  see ;  this  was  the  highest  exertion 
of  the  mathematical  faculty  its  organization  admitted,  or 
its  necessities  required;  and  here  its  display  rested,  and 
will  continue  to  rest.  Eeason  has  carried  it  up  to  the  ulti- 
mate of  its  creative  intention. 

So  with  the  ant,  the  organization  of  which  is  complicated, 
its  necessities  more  diverse,  and  the  results  of  its  reasoning 
more  varied  and  curious!  So  with  all  forms  of  animal 
life! 

We  arrive  at  man — the  perfection  of  organized  matter.  We 
find  reason  in  him  capable  of  nearly  all  the  bee  does  or  the 
ant  can  accomplish,  and,  as  a  general  average,  superior  to 
all  other  animals — though  in  particular  traits  he  is  inferior  to 
most  of  them.  He  has  not  the  eye  of  the  eagle  or  the  vul- 
ture ;  the  scent  of  the  hound  or  the  moth  ;  the  hearing  of  the 
deer ;  the  sense  of  touch  of  the  mole ;  the  taste  of  the  coy 
humming-bird. 

Therefore,  the  experience  of  his  senses,  or  his  physical  abil- 
ity, will  not  enable  his  reason  to  accomplish  just  such  feats  as 
characterize  these  particular  animals — but  yet,  the  general  su- 
periority of  his  senses  over  those  of  any  one  of  these — their 
more  equal  and  perfect  balance — the  higher  complexity,  sus- 
ceptibility, and  delicacy  of  his  whole  organization — give  to  him 
the  first  position  as  the  mere  "reasoning  animal." 

Though  the  migratory  bird,  or  fish,  from  the  superior  acute- 
ness  of  one  sense,  and  the  familiarity  its  habits,  must  give  it 
with  the  currents  of  the  elements  in  which  it  dwells,  can  tra- 
verse the  world  in  a  straight  line,  without  other  guide  than  this 
experience  of  its  peculiar  senses — yet  man  can  do  the  same 
thing  by  a  more  roundabout,  but  quite  as  wonderful  process ; 


NATURE  AND  HER  HARMONIES.  41 

his  necessities  gradually  taught  him  the  qualities  of  the  mag- 
netic needle,  and  by  the  aid  of  this,  he  can  do  what  the  bird  or 
fish  accomplish  directly,  by  their  superior  sense.  Here,  then, 
we  have  man,  so  far,  a  mere  form  of  animal  life, — more  per- 
fect, indeed,  than  any  other — but  sustained  by  the  same  law 
which  sustains  them,  and,  like  them,  ceasing  to  be,  when  his 
organization  is  dissolved.  For  we  have  said,  the  office  of 
reason,  like  that  of  caution  and  love  of  life,  is  to  protect  this 
existence,  and  carry  it  up  to  the  consummation  of  its  creative 
intention ;  to  lead  on  the  vital  forces  in  the  battle  against 
decay.  And  when,  in  that  unceasing  war,  decay  has  con- 
quered, reason  must  die.  Its  mission  has  been  fulfilled — for 
all  the  objects,  purposes,  and  duties  of  simple  animal  life  in 
a  material  universe,  it  were  sufficient — the  animal  needs  it 
no  further.  It  has  been  resolved  into  the  original  elementst 
and  the  principle  of  life  returns,  to  become  again  a  part  of 
the  spirit  of  Nature. 

That  reason  carried  man  up  to  the  highest  point  of  phys- 
ical perfection  his  organization  was  capable  of  attaining, 
there  can  be  little  doubt, — "and  all  the  days  of  Methu- 
selah were  nine  hundred  and  sixty  and  nine  years,  and  he 
died" — is  a  sufficient  comment  upon  this  point. 

But  we  said  "  man  was  a  complex  being,  the  animal  a 
simple  one."  We  have  thus  far  presented  him  as  a  mere  form 
of  animal  life,  and  shown  the  disposal  of  all  that  portion  of 
his  being  we  hold  in  common  with  it !  We  have  tarried 
long  enough  amidst  the  " flesh  pots!"  Joy  in  Heaven  and 
Thanksgiving  on  Earth !  The  murky  gloom  of  terrestrial 
materialism  has  been  pierced  and  flooded  by  the  keen  joy- 
ance  of  a  celestial  light !  Moses,  the  first  Poet — the  prime- 
val "King  of  Mind,"  has  sung  of  how  "The  Lord  God 
formed  man  of  the  dust  of  the  ground,  and  breathed  into  his 
nostrils  the  breath  of  life — and  man  became  a  living  soul  /" 

He  tells  how  "  God  made  the  beast  of  the  field  after  his  kind, 
and  cattle  after  their  kind,  and  every  living  thing  that  creepeth 
on  the  earth  after  its  kind,"  but  he  does  not  sing  that  He 


42  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIKDS. 

breathed  into  the  nostrils  of  the  animal  the  "breath  of  life," 
and  that  it  became  "a  living  soul  I" 

Now,  this  was  the  crowning  act  of  the  six  days'  work. 
And  man,  the  sublimation  of  material  forms,  alone  was 
trusted  with  that  awful  gift — "  the  breath  of  life !"  There  is 
no  mention  of  the  "  breath  of  life"  when  he  made  the  beast, 
cattle,  and  creeping  things.  Yet  in  the  common  sense  of 
these  words,  they  too  were  given  the  breath  of  life. 

No !  He  before  says — "  God  made  man  in  his  own 
image,"  that  is,  in  his  spiritual  image— for  there  can  be 
no  material  likeness  of  spiritual  existence,  and  these  ma- 
jestic words  were  used  in  reference  to  that  spiritual  resem- 
blance of  which  the  Eternal  Life  of  God  was  the  first  feature. 

The  breath  of  life  from  his  own  lips  was  the  bestowal  of  the 
eternity  of  his  own  spiritual  being.  A  distinct,  peculiar  a.ct ! 
adding  another  element  to  the  animal  framed  of  the  same 
dust  of  which  the  beast  was  made — interfusing  a  portion  of 
Himself,  of  His  own  ultimate  and  indivisible  essence,  into 
the  subtlest,  purest  organization  of  compounded  matter: 
and  man  became  a  living  soul,  and  that  soul  in  the  image  of 
its  Maker ! 

Between  the  atomic  *  reasoner,  and  the  reasoning  man, 
there  is  a  mighty  stride.  The  shadow,  though  far  away, 
is  like,  for  one  and  the  same  principle  governs  in  each. 
The  stride  between  the  attributes  of  God,  so  far  as  he  has 
chosen  to  reveal  them,  and  th«  attributes  of  the  Living  Soul 
in  man,  made  after  his  own  image,  is  vast  too;  but  the  shad- 
ow, though  cast  from  afar — from  out  the  abyss  of  Infinity — 
is  yet  dim,  is  still  like  ! 

We  cannot  know  how  much  more  high  those  other  attri- 
butes of  which  it  has  not  pleased  Him  to  instruct  us  may 
be ;  but  we  do  know  from  His  own  words  that  the  Crea- 
tive Power  is  one  of  them,  and  Omnipresence  and  Foreknowl- 
edge are  others. 

Then  has  not  the  Imagination,  the  Living  Soul  of  man,  in  its 
own  narrow  sphere,  the  Creative  power.  Out  of  the  chaos  of 


NATURE  AND  HER  HARMONIES.  43 

material  imagery  does  it  not  body  fortli  creations  of  its  own, 
which  had  no  being  else,  and  with  the  reflex  glories  of  this 
atom  orb,  people  a  universe  ?  Does  not  the  spread  of  thought 
in  inappreciable  time  traverse  all  space  like  omnipresence  ? 
Has  it  not  whilome  cleft  the  dark-lined  horizon  of  Now,  and 
felt  the  Future  shiver  in  cold  prophetic  beamings  on  its 
plumes  ? 

Says  not  the  sage  Poet — 

"  Imagination  which  from  earth  to  sky, 
And  from  the  depths  of  human  phantasy, 
As  from  a  thousand  prisms  and  mirrors  fill 
The  universe  with  golden  beams!" 

The  universe !  Aye,  there  is  its  peculiar  home !  Reason 
may  deal  with  things  of  earth,  cope  with  her  physical  laws, 
and  teach  the  arm  of  flesh  to  wrest  from  their  hard  grasp 
shelter  and  food :  but  the  rarer  empyrean  will  not  sustain  its 
heavy  plumes ;  when  the 

"  Spirit,  the  Promethean  spark, 

has  passed  beneath  them — then,  possessed  of  an  immortal 
vigor,  the  self-same  drooping  vans  bathing  in  silver-exhala- 
tions at  far  starry  fonts,  take  on  the  youth  and  splendor  of 
eternity,  and  in  long,  weariless  flights  traverse  infinity,  ques- 
tioning the  seraphim,  front  to  front,  of  God  and  mysteries . 

Here  is  the  mission  of  Imagination !  We  are  of  earth, 
earthy ;  and  all  its  grosser  essences  thrice  winnowed  through 
life,  through  death,  and  through  decay,  meet  once  again  in  The 
I  Am,  without  extension,  weight,  or  form, — The  ultimation  of 
material  being — buoyant  and  strong  as  angels  are,  aud  meet 
to  bow  with  them  before  God's  throne,  and  bide  the  awful 
Future. 

And  as  Imagination  here  has  wrought  His  will, — has 
faithfully  tasked  the  poor  wings  of  Reason  lent  it  but  for 


44:  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIRDS. 

Time,  and  delved  and  soared  in  every  secret  place  where 
they  might  bear  it,  searching  for  knowledge  of  that  will — so 
shall  its  wages  be. 

"  Has  she  not  shown  us  all 
From  the  clear  hreath  of  ether  to  the  small 
Breath  of  new  huds  unfolding !     From  the  meaning 
Of  Jove's  large  eyebrow  to  the  tender  greening 
Of  April  meadows  ?" 

Everything  that  we  may  know  of  our  relations  to  the 
eternal  cause— duties  as  citizens  of  the  star-lit  extended  uni- 
verse— we  must  be  taught  by  this  imagination,  which  has 
been  "since  mind  at  first  in  characters  was  done,"  the 
chiefest  theme  of  poets.  In  many  a  guise  and  strange  in> 
personation,  they  have  sung  of  it.  The  Hebrew  first  named 
it  Job,  and  in  that  noble  allegory  showed  how  the  prone 
"Reason  strove  to  drag  it  earthward,  with  tortures  and  wiles 
beset  in  vain  its  pure  allegiance  to  the  Lord  of  Hosts.  Then 
through  a  long  line  of  Prophet,  Priest  and  King,  these  an- 
cient chronicles  have  traced  it  down  to  the  day  of  the  Cae- 
sars ;  and  here  they  showed  how  the  Prince  of  Spiritual  Life 
might  blend  himself  with  matter,  and  become  incarnate 
through  a  Virgin ! — that  the  lowlier  essence  of  himself  im- 
prisoned here  might  learn  to  love,  to  hope,  and  to  endure ! 

The  less  favored  nation  symboled  its  lower  and  fanciful  at- 
tributes as  Dryad,  Fawn  and  Nymph : 

A  beautiful,  though  erring  faith,  is't  not? 
Which  populates  the  brute  insensate  earth 
"With  beamy  shapes,  the  ministers  of  love 
And  quaintest  humors ! 

Or,  in  the  sublime  myth  of  the  Greek  Prometheus,  who 
wrestled  defiant  with  the  Gods,  and  defied  them,  through  tor- 
ments without  name,  to  quell  that  spark  of  their  own  life  he 
won  from  heaven  for  his  race. 


NATURE  AND   HER  HARMONIES.  45 

To  overlook  the  ages,  what  is  the  Prometheus  of  Shelley 
but  an  impersonation  of  the  Soul — of  Imagination,  warring 
with  the  great  powers  of  evil,  who  curse  it  with  a  body.  The 
Rock,  Animal  Life — Reason,  the  Chain — and  fell  Disease,  the 
Vulture ;  and  when  the  Demons  drove  the  Vulture  off  that 
they  might  be  refreshed  with  taunting  him,  the  fearfulest 
image  of  fierce  torture  they  could  conjure  was — 

"  Thou  thinkest  we  will  live  through  thee  one  by  one 
Like  Animal  Life  ?     And  though  we  can  obscure  not 
The  Soul  which  burns  within — that  we  will  dwell 
Beside  thee,  like  a  vain  loud  multitude, 
Vexing  the  self-content  of  wisest  men : 
That  we  will  be  dread  thought  beneath  thy  brain, 
And  foul  desire  round  thine  astonished  heart, 
And  blood  within  thy  labyrinthine  veins, 
Crawling  like  agony  /" 

Poets  have  writ  no  cumbrous  tomes,  nor  heaped  dull 
dogmatisms  mountain  high,  to  awe  the  world ;  but  they  have 
felt  all  truths,  and  written  them  just  as  they  felt,  and  called 
them  too  by  universal  names  in  scorn  of  pedant  nomencla- 
ture. They  leave  it  to  the  drudging  scholiast  to  classify ;  but 
under  one  name  in  every  tongue  they  have  synonymed  Im- 
agination and  the  Soul.  "Without  a  thought  of  school-men's 
terms,  they  have  felt  them  to  be  one,  and  so  inscribed  them. 
Aye !  and  so  they  are !  And  our  theory  is  but  a  gleaning 
from  "  the  chronicles  of  wasted  Time,"  of  "  what  their  antique 
pen  would  have  expressed!" 

"  Spirit  of  Nature  !  thou 
Life  of  interminable  multitudes  ! 
Soul  of  those  mighty  spheres 
Whose  changeless  paths  through  Heaven's 

deep  silence  lie ! 
Soul  of  that  smallest  being, 
The  dwelling  of  whose  life 
Is  one  faint  April  gleam  !" 


4:6  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIRDS. 

If  this  be  true,  then  have  we  been  right  to  regard  the 
earth  as  a  living  revelation,  and  the  dumb  trees,  and  stocks, 
and  stones,  articulate  language.  But  like  that  other  Holy 
Eevelation,  the  types  and  symbols  here  must  be  devoutly 
studied,  with  a  pious  and  earnest  zeal. 

Though,  perhaps,  not  very  strictly  pious  in  the  common 
acceptation,  zeal  enough  has  not  been  wanting.  Uncon- 
sciously, our  translations — occasional  glimpses  of  the  sense 
which  visited  us — began  to  assume  definiteness  and  connec- 
tion ;  the  indigested  chaos  of  rude  forms  to  take  on  order ;  and 
before  we  were  aware,  an  absorbing  idea  had  possessed  us.  The 
result  of  all  our  readings  might  then  be  summed  up  under  the 
single  head,  "  life  is  one  linked  continuous  chain,  from,  what 
we  can  know  of  God,  to  the  atom ;"  and  patiently  we  continue 
to  delve  among  the  rocks,  the  shells,  the  bugs,  all  creeping 
things,  the  flowers,  the  birds,  the  brutes,  and  arrowy  fishes, 
to  see  if  we  may  trace  these  links  distinctly  to  the  bounds  of 
sense.  We  think  we  can ! 

Then  comes  the  inquiry — if  this  linked  gradation  be  a  ma- 
terial law,  the  law  of  forms,  may  it  not  apply  also  to  the  im- 
material essence  which  in  such  varied  phases  constitutes  the 
life — the  soul  of  these  ?  Here  we  meet  with  the  hoary  dog- 
matisms of  the  schools,  and  are  rebuffed.  Here  we  veil  our 
eyes  in  humility  before  such  names  as  Bacon,  Locke,  Hume, 
Beattie,  Brown.  We  reverence  these  high  Priests  in  the 
temple  of  the  Most  High !  But  reverence  need  not  be  blind. 
They  say  Reason  and  Instinct  are  altogether  unlike;  that 
Imagination  is  a  mere  faculty  or  adjunct  of  Eeason,  and 
Eeason  is  the  supremest  function  of  the  mind.  How  dare 
we  think  or  say  otherwise  ?  We  do  not  do  it  daringly,  we 
do  it  humbly,  inquiringly.  We  say  we  cannot  help  it  that 
our  eyes  will  not  see  as  theirs  have.  Our's  are  poor,  weak 
visuals  at  the  best,  and  but  that  there  is  something  curious  in 
the  obstinacy  of  the  hallucinations  they  have  persisted  in  all 
our  lives  long,  we  should  not  presume  to  trouble  any  one 


NATURE  AND  HER  HARMONIES.  47 

with  such  opinions.    But  let  us  strive  as  we  may  to  see  that 
these  things  are  so,  it  is  all  in  vain. 

"  For  then  my  thoughts 
Will  keep  my  drooping  eye-lids  open  wide, 
Looking  on  darkness  which  the  blind  do  see ; 
Save  that  my  soul's  imaginary  sight 
Presents  this  shadow  to  my  sightless  view." 

Still  the  living  revelation  will  be  denned  to  us — "Life 
in  one  linked  continuous  chain  from  the  Godhead  to 
the  atom  I"  We  can  see  that  the  universe  has  no  abrupt 
gradations  I  That  Facilis  descensus  is  the  law  so  far  as  we 
can  trace  it  from  inessential  spiritual  being  down  to  man, 
and  certainly  from  man  down  to  the  atom. 

The  process  of  beginning  at  the  atom,  and  tracing  the  gra- 
dations of  life  up  to  man,  furnishes  the  most  complete  train 
of  analogical  argumentation  the  mind  is  capable  of  realizing. 
The  microscopic  observation  of  Physical  Philosophy  through 
atomic  existences  up  to  sensible  ones,  has  discovered  here  as 
well  a  perfect  chain  of  life,  with  an  individual  standing  between 
the  extremes  of  each  species,  and  partaking  of  the  character 
of  both. 

When  we  arrive  at  the  sensible,  or  visible,  no  ordinary 
thinker,  who  has  walked  with  his  eyes  open,  can  have  failed 
likewise  of  being  astonished  at  the  perfect  symmetry  of  this 
gradation. 

Who  has  not  seen  in  the  Sensitive  Plant,  the  first  faint 
stir  as  in  a  dream  before  awakening,  of  the  great  active 
principle  of  life  which  slumbers  so  profoundly  passive  in 
the  mountain  and  the  forest ;  and  then  in  the  (diona  mits- 
dpula)  Fly-catching  Plant,  the  smiling  play  of  an  odd 
conceit  across  the  features  of  the  half-aroused  sleeper ;  and 
then  the  full  waking  in  the  Hydra  Polypus,  this  strange 
creature,  forming  the  link  between  vegetable  and  animal  life, 
sharing  the  character  of  both — capable  of  dissection  into  a 
thousand  fragments — yet  reproducing  from  each  a  living 


48  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIRDS. 

animal,  a  perfect  polypus ;  and  the  Humming-bird,  the  link 
between  Insects  and  Birds,  agreeing  with  the  larger  species 
of  moths  in  the  character  and  manner  of  taking — (on  the 
wing) — its  principal  food ;  though  it  cannot  live  long  on 
nectar  alone,  but,  as  a  bird,  must  have  insects  occasionally, 
or  it  will  die ;  and  then  the  feather  which  in  the  moth  has 
become  gradually  more  perceptible  to  the  naked  eye,  in  this 
bright  creature  is  splendidly  perfected.  How  beautifully 
the  waves  glide  into  each  other  in  this  calm  harmony  of  be- 
ing! 

Then  at  the  other  end  of  the  scale  of  birds,  we  have  the 
Ostrich  and  Penguin,  with  wings  incapable  of  flight ;  and 
the  Bat,  the  link  between  birds  and  animals ;  and,  what 
is  still  more  curious,  an  animal  in  New  Holland,  with  the 
horny  bill  of  the  duck  and  body  of  the  hair  seal.  We 
have  not  time  for  more  particular  citation.  We  will  go  on 
up  to  the  monkey,  the  orang-outang,  the  man;  the  inter- 
mediate grades  are  filled  up  in  the  manner  we  have  shown. 

And  here  we  lay  it  down  as  a  proposition  of  physics  ;  that 
through  the  whole  chain  of  being,  whether  what  is  called  ani- 
mate or  inanimate,  there  is  yet  this  connecting  link  between 
every  change,  not  only  of  class,  but  of  order,  genus,  and  spe- 
cies— that  the  individual  intermediate  in  this  change  pos- 
sesses a  double  nature,  embracing  in  a  less  degree  the  charac- 
teristics of  the  class,  order,  etc.,  left,  and  in  a  greater  those 
of  that  entered  upon — that  this  chain  of  progression  is  un- 
broken from  the  atom  up  to  man  I  Taking  for  granted,  of 
course,  the  proposition  of  spiritual  existences,  the  irresisti- 
ble inference  from  all  this  linked  analogy  is — that  man,  be- 
ing the  perfection  and  last  gradation  of  material  existence, 
forms  the  link  between  it  and  the  spiritual ;  being  the  indi- 
vidual intermediate,  possesses  a  double  nature,  embracing  in 
a  less  degree  the  characteristics  of  the  class  left,  and  in  a 
greater,  those  of  that  entered  upon ;  'that  the  two  elements 
of  this  double  nature  are  the  material  or  reasoning,  which  he 
possesses  in  common  with  other  forms  of  animal  life ;  and 


NATURE   AND   HER  HARMONIES.  49 

the  spiritual  or  imaginative  which  he  possesses  in  common 
with  angelic  beings.  Why,  even  a  coarse-grained  Kussian 
would  not  resist  this  conclusion,  and,  with  the  vigor  of  the 
rude  north,  finely  expresses  the  idea : 

"  I  hold  the  middle  rank  'twixt  heaven  and  earth. 

On  the  last  verge  of  mortal  being  stand, 
Close  to  the  realms  where  angels  have  their  birth, 

Just  on  the  boundaries  of  the  Spirit-Land  ; 
The  chain  of  being  is  complete  in  me, 

In  me  is  matter's  last  gradation  lost, 
And  the  next  step  is  spirit — Deity." 

This  chain  of  being  is  the  Jacob's  ladder  of  the  allegory, 
the  rounds  of  which,  form,  "  principalities  and  powers  in 
heavenly  places,"  through  all  the  orders  of  spiritual  intelli- 
gences, lead  down  to  man,  resting  with  him,  the  link  between 
earth  and  heaven.  We  have  a  perfect  and  just  right  to  the 
argument,  that  the  next  step  is  pure  spirit,  unalloyed  with 
matter — angelic  being — and  that  there  are  grades  and  orders 
of  this  being,  swelling  sublimely  up  ^o  the  infinite.  Before 
the  discovery  of  the  microscope,  the  world  of  the  dew-drop — 
the  atomic  legions  '  from  the  low  herb  where  mites  do  crawl,' 
to  the  myriads  of  '  far  spoomming  ocean'  and  the  wide  air, 
were  all  as  far  beyond  the  apprehension  of  our  senses  as 
these  spiritual  existences  now  are. 

Yet  the  most  patient  investigation  has  gone  to  show  that 
the  analogies  of  higher  existences  hold  good  in  these,  and 
science  does  not  hesitate  in  the  application  of  these  analo- 
gies to  them.  Why  should  they  hold  good  at  one  end  of 
the  scale  and  not  at  the  other  ?  Is  it  because  we  cannot  see, 
taste,  smell,  or  handle  thought  and  spiritual  existences? 
Neither  can  we  do  all  this  with  the  atom ;  its  very  being  is 
only  arrived  at  through  imperfect  instruments ;  while  the 
existence  of  spirit  and  thought  is  proven  by  our  conscious- 
ness, than  which  there  can  be  no  higher  evidence.  Yet  no 
man  in  his  senses  pretends  to  deny  atomic  existences  be- 

4 


50  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIRDS. 

cause  lie  cannot  see  them,  nor  the  application  of  the  laws  of 
life  which  he  can  see  in  sensible  existences  to  them ;  nor 
would  any  such  man  deny  the  same  application  at  the  other 
end  of  the  scale  to  spiritual,  especially,  since  he  has  higher 
order  of  proof,  independent  of  revelation,  that  they  are ! 

Though  each  of  these  two  natures  in  man  is  a  unit  capable 
of  separate  existence,  yet  the  imagination  is  only  apparent 
through  the  material,  as  electricity  through  the  atmosphere, 
which  conveys  to  us  the  flash  and  sound.  We  do  not  argue  that 
electricity  is  a  property  of  atmosphere,  because  we  only  hear 
and  see  it  through  this  medium ;  nor  do  we  argue  that  elec- 
tricity is  not,  because  it  is  not  always  apparent.  We  know  it 
to  be  above  us  and  around  us,  nevertheless,  and  gentle  and 
familiar  as  the  airs  of  home ;  but  if  we  should  forget !  then, 
shaken  with  grandeur  through  the  last  quivering  fibre,  we  are 
reminded  that  it  is. 

Though  it  sleeps  now  with  silence,  in  its  "old  couch  of 
space,"  yet  its  articulations  are  all  of  the  sublime,  and  the 
awed  earth,  and  the  reverberating  heavens  rock  beneath  its 
stunning  shout,  when  it  answers  the  far-spaces  in  laughter  at 
man's  vain  presumptuous  doubts. 

As  electricity  to  nature,  so  imagination  is  to  man's  material 
or  reasoning  part.  It  is  not  always  apparent  to  his  drowsy 
consciousness ;  yet  it  always  is  subtle  and  silent^  refining  his 
coarse  passions  or  making  them  more  terrible ;  and  its  articu- 
lations, too,  are  all  of  the  sublime  ;  and  when  the  gathering 
nations,  with  rapture  on  their  multitudinous  tongues,  swell 
the  huzza  to  glorious  deeds,  you  may  know  that  it  has  leaped 
fronrits  "dumb  cradle!" 

All  that  is  grand,  magnificent,  sublime,  the  Past  has  to 
tell — the  Future  has  no  hope :  Imagination  wrought  or  must 
create.  The  Chieftain,  the  Architect,  the  Sculptor,  the  Paint- 
er, the  Poet,  are  her  slaves — and  at  her  bidding,  the  world  is 
showered  with  splendors.  In  a  word,  Imagination  is  the  Soul. 

The  cause  of  that  gradual  physical  deterioration  we  notice 
from  the  times  before  the  flood  to  the  present,  evidently  may 


NATURE  AND  HER  HARMONIES.  51 

be  traced  to  the  unceasing  antagonism  of  these  two  opposite 
elements  of  man's  nature.  Each  successive  generation  marks 
the  victorious  progress  of  the  spiritual  in  the  declension  of 
mere  animal  bulk ;  the  more  delicate  and  sensitive  texture 
of  nervous  tissue,  and  greater  frontal  development,  a  falling 
off  in  the  actual  numerical  span  of  life,  but  a  corresponding 
accession  in  that  which  constitutes  its  true  measurement — the 
number,  variety  and  intensity  of  emotions  and  thoughts — in 
short,  an  every-day  and  increasing  recognition  of  all  higher 
truths. 

Men  are  beginning  now  to  appreciate  the  true  offices  of  Im- 
agination, and  to  separate  them  from  the  monstrous  and  un- 
natural paternity  of  mere  machine  rhyming !  and  to  know 
and  feel  that 

"  A  drainless  shower 

Of  light  is  Poesy !     'Tis  the  Supreme  Power — 
'Tis  might  half  slumbering  on  its  own  right  arm. 
The  very  arching  of  its  eye-lids  charm 
A  thousand  willing  agents  to  obey ; 
And  still  she  governs  with  the  mildest  sway !" 

Now,  while  we  write,  in  a  retired  corner  of  the  great  city, 
at  a  late  hour  of  the  night,  there  is  an  entire  lull  of  the  rum- 
ble of  dray,  hack  and  omnibus  wheels,  and  the  glance  of  the 
large-eyed  moon  reflexes  coldly  from  the  white  cathedral 
spire  that  copples  sharp  in  the  distance  before  our  window. 
It  ought  to  be  the  hour  of  profound  repose — when  the  puls- 
ings of  this  mighty  heart  should  be  quiet. 

It  ought  to  be,  but  is  it  so?  We  hear  through  the  open 
windows  of  the  marble  palace  opposite  the  favorite  air  of 
"  Miss  Lucy  Long,"  fashionably  parodied — and  a  cultivated, 
clear,  manly  voice  accompanies  the  soft,  shrill  treble  of  some 
fair  warbler.  In  the  street  beneath,  an  unwashed,  ragged 
loafer  whistles  a  vehement  "  third,"  and  thrums  the  interlude 
with  his  bare  heels  upon  a  pine  box,  which  will  probably  be 
his  roosting-place  for  the  night ! 


52  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIEDS. 

Jewels,  silks,  "the  pouncet  box,"  and  music!  Dirt,  vice, 
tatters,  wretchedness,  and  music  I  Silence — over  the  jang- 
ling roar  of  trampling,  rushing,  striving  men — lifted  up  intc 
a  Presence  Godlike,  "walking  the  clear  billows  of  sweet 
sound."  What  contrasts !  O  thou  Omnipotence  of  Music ! 
Majestic  soother ! — before  whose  smile  the  fiery  mane  of 
Storms,  careering  thunder-hoofed  along  the  mountains  of 
the  world,  is  laid ! — whose  touch  has 

"  Smoothed 
The  raven  down  of  Darkness  till  it  smiled ! 

Thou  voice  of  God's  Love  !  how  beneficent  art  thou !  All 
pleasant  objects,  natures,  forms,  are  tones  of  thee !  Moon- 
light is  the  silver  tone  of  thy  calm,  radiant  blessing — and 

"  Oldest  shades  'mong  oldest  trees 

Feel  palpitations  when  thou  lookest  in. 
O  Moon !  old  boughs  lisp  forth  a  holier  din 
The  while  they  feel  thine  airy  fellowship. 
Thou  dost  bless  everywhere,  with  silver  lip 
Kissing  dead  things  to  life.    The  sleeping  kine, 
Couch'd  in  thy  brightness,  dream  of  fields  divine : 
Innumerable  mountains  rise,  and  rise, 
Ambitious  for  the  hallowing  of  thine  eyes ; 
And  yet  thy  benediction  passeth  not 
One  obscure  hiding-place,  one  little  spot 
Where  pleasure  may  be  sent :  the  nested  wren 
Has  thy  fair  face  within  its  tranquil  den, 
And  from  beneath  a  sheltering  ivy  leaf 
Takes  glimpses  of  thee  ;  thou  art  a  relief 
To  the  poor  patient  oyster,  where  it  sleeps 
"Within  its  pearly  house." 

Ay  1  and  that  poor  human  oyster — the  Loafer  from  out 
his  motley  painted  shell  of  filth  and  rags  "  takes  glimpses  of 
thee  I  The  largess  of  thy  benediction  falleth  over  him !  The 
fellow  is  happy  there,  and  his  whistle  is  as  blithesome  as  the 


NATURE  AND  HER  HARMONIES.  53 

song  of  yon  more  favored  twain !     Can  he  be  glad  with  all 
his  misery,  his  piteous  unrecking  shame  upon  him  ? 

Here  we  reluctantly  pause.  A  voice  from  the  printer — 
"  No  more  space !  all  closed !"  falls  like  a  sudden  shower  upon 
the  thin  wings  of  our  "  Eeverie,"  and  damps  them  back  to 
earth.  They  will  soon  dry  and  grow  glossy  again,  and  be 
rollicking  madly  on  the  fitful  winds  as  if  the  envious  clouds 
had  never  wept. 


CHAPTER   II. 

BOYHOOD    AND    BIEDS. 

THE  Hunter  Naturalist  is  formed  in  childhood.  "  The  little 
leaven  thatleaveneth  the  whole  lump,"  commenceth  its  strange 
ferment  in  that  unconscious  time  when  the  sun  is  yet  the  gol- 
den wonder,  and  all  of  earth's  apparelings  glitter  in  the  splen- 
dor of  the  dew. 

Why  is  it  that  with  our  scathed  brows  relaxed  we  watch 
the  gambols  of  the  "little  ones"  with  such  pleasure?  Is  it 
not  that  the  sweet  simplicity  and  natural  grace  of  every  im- 
pulse and  movement  of  the  healthy  child  recalls  our  earliest 
associations  of  the  lovable,  the  piquant  and  the  pleasing,  as 
exhibited  in  the  life  of  the  Natural  World  ? 

We  may  grow  to  be  paste-board,  and  painted  men  and 
women,  to  be  sure,  and  learn  to  admire  the  antics  of  bedizened 
monkeys,  which  would  be  even  miscalled  "  Human  Brats!" 
— but  such  terrific  perversions,  thanks  to  the  illimitable  blue 
that  is  universed  in  the  deep  eye  of  one  true  child  of  God  and 
Nature  I — can  do  little  harm.  We  pity  while  we  despise — 
yet,  in  the  other,  the  chubby  insolence  of  exuberant  fun 
provokes  the  laughter  of  deep  joy.  Ha  1  ha !  we  laugh,  and 
let  our  sides  go  quaking  with  the  tranquil  stir  of  bliss  that 
God  has  left  us  something  natural  even  in  the  children  of  our 
loins  as  well  as  in  his  "  unhoused  wilds !" 

If  I  feel  now  that  the  sanctifying  pleasure  of  renewing  the 
reminiscences  of  my  earlier  life  in  connection  with  Birds, 
and  Flowers,  and  wild  scenes,  can  afford  to  others  a  proxi- 


BOYHOOD  AND   BIKDS.  55 

mate  gratification  to  that  which,  they  have  afforded  me  in 
the  act  of  recalling  them,  I  may  perhaps  be  pardoned  for 
making  as  nearly  as  is  possible  "  a  free  breast  of  it !" 

I  must  therefore  be  permitted  to  confess,  after  my  own 
fashion,  one  of  the  first,  of  the  many  droll  troubles,  in  which 
the  Hunter-Naturalist  in  the  earlier  stages  of  his  experiences 
and  development  is  liable  to  be  involved. 

While  yet  a  boy,  I  had  one,  out  of  a  number  of  sisters, 
who,  being  nearest  my  own  age,  became  naturally  my  espe 
cial  playmate.  She  had  dark  lustrous  eyes,  delicate  features, 
and  a  form  lithe,  supple  and  elastic  as  that  of  a  she  wild-cat ; 
and  like  that  creature  also,  possessed  a  marvellous  facility  of 
ascension — that  is,  she  had  a  faculty  of  ascending,  by  that 
indefinite  process  called  "  climbing,"  the  uttermost  boughs 
of  plumb  trees,  apple  trees,  cherry  trees,  pears  trees,  &c., 
&c., — as  also  the  tops  of  fences,  barns,  houses  and  such 
like! 

She  was,  hence  and  therefore,  quite  generally  christened 
"  Tom-boy" — but,  if  ever  any  vulgar  sense  of  that  phase  was 
misapplied,  it  was  in  this  instance,  as  characterizing  a  severe 
audacity — that,  as  it  was  above  fear  or  thought  of  evil,  never 
dreamed  in  its  pride  of  the  possibility  of  misconstruction. 

She  was  fearless,  because  God  had  gifted  her  thus  in  her  in- 
nocence that  she  dreaded  not  his  Justice  ! 

She  was  my  dainty  compeer  and  companion  in  many  an 
enthusiastic  forage  into  the  wild  domains  of  Nature. 

I  shall  proceed  to  relate  one  of  the  most  memorable  of 
these  in  which  she  assisted  me,  as  only  her  sex  could  have 
done,  in  relation  to  some  young  "  MOCKING  BIKDS  IN  A 

STRANGE  NEST  ": 

It  must  be  premised  that,  at  the  settlement  of  Kentucky, 
the  mocking  bird  ( Turdus  polyglotim}  was  not  known  in  the 
land  as  a  resident ;  but  that,  when  the  war-whoop  had  ceased 
to  affright  the  silence,  and  the  ring  of  the  deadly  rifle  given 
way  to  the  peaceful  clang  of  scythes,  whetted  by  mowers  in 
the  broad,  green,  smiling  meadows,  then  the  king  of  song- 


56  WILD   SCENES  AND  SONG-BIEDS. 

birds  made  his  appearance,  and  took  possession  of  the  fair 
land,  as  of  a  rightful  heritage. 

To  be  sure,  it  had  been  seen  before  this,  and  the  hunters 
knew  its  white-barred  wings  from  afar  off,  but  not  its  name ; 
nor  had  they  heard  its  song.  It  had  always  shown  itself 
wild  and  shy  in  the  extreme — as  if  it  were  a  mere  passenger 
through  an  evil  country,  and  feared  to  rest  the  soles  of  its 
feet  upon  a  soil  that  was  accursed.  But,  with  the  blooming 
orchards,  waving  grain,  and  all  the  pleasant  sights  and 
mellow  sounds  of  peace,  the  scared  way-farers  tarried  for 
awhile  to  rest,  and  then  to  find  a  new  kingdom  and  a 
home. 

There  is  something  very  curious  in  the  manner  in  which 
this  creature  took  possession,  first  of  Northern  Kentucky ; 
and  then,  some  twenty  years  after,  of  the  Southern  part,  or 
Green  River  country,  as  it  is  known.  The  North,  beyond 
doubt,  from  its  physical  confomation,  suited  the  habits  and 
tastes  of  the  fastidious  monarch  best;  and  besides,  it  was 
nearly  fifty  years  after  the  settlement  of  the  North,  and  not 
until  the  world  had  commenced  to  style  it  the  Paradise  of  the 
West,  that  the  Green  River  valley  began  to  emerge  from  the 
semi-barbarous  condition  of  a  frontier,  and  to  be  considered 
by  him  as  worthy  of  notice.  Then  he  came  more  frequently, 
a  fleeting  scout  "  to  spy  out  the  land  and  the  richness  thereof." 

I  remember  well,  a  very  eccentric,  good-natured,  and  gar- 
rulous old  gentleman  of  my  native  town,  a  Mr.  B. ,  who  was 

a  good  naturalist  by  the  way,  and  loved  birds  dearly — tell- 
ing me  about  a  chase  after  the  first  mocking  bird  he  ever 
saw  in  the  Green  River  country.  He  was  one  of  the  earliest 
settlers  of  our  town,  and  had  known  the  bird  well  in  Vir- 
ginia, and  had  frequently  seen  it  in  the  north  of  Kentucky. 
He  often,  during  a  residence  of  twelve  or  fifteen  years,  won- 
dered why  he  had  never  seen  it  in  the  "  Barrens" — which  was 
the  old  name  the  hunters  had  given  to  the  Green  River 
Valley. 

Mr.  B.  was  one  day  riding  through  these  black  oak  Bar- 


BOYHOOD  AND  BIRDS.  57 

rens*  in  a  gig,  with  his  wife,  when  lie  saw  a  bird  which  he 
instantly  recognized  as  the  mocking  bird,  fluttering  along  the 
road-side.  His  first  surprise  over,  he  soon  perceived  that  it 
was  a  young  one,  and,  as  he  delightedly  supposed,  not  fully 
fledged.  He  was  a  very  impulsive  man,  and  without  con- 
sidering what  might  be  the  consequences,  had  his  horse  in  a 
gallop  in  an  instant,  in  the  hope  of  running  down  and  mak- 
ing a  captive  of  the  young  stranger. 

The  startled  wife  pleaded  with  him  to  desist,  but  he  was 
too  intent  to  heed  ;  and  when  the  bird  made  a  considerable 
flight  towards  some  gnarled  and  scrubbly  black  jacks  near? 
she  screamed  most  lustily,  in  her  now  well-grounded  alarm, 
and  begged  and  prayed  to  be  permitted  to  get  out,  at  least, 
as  he  wheeled  his  gig  and  dashed  after  it.  The  only  answer 
she  could  get  was — 

"  Be  still !  Hush  dear  I  I  shall  have  him  directly  I  It's 
a  real  mock — ." 

Crash — went  the  unlucky  gig,  into  the  rough  embrace  of 
a  Briaerus'  armed  black  jack,  which  tore  the  gig  top,  his 
wife's  bonnet,  and  his  own  straw  hat,  into  shreds,  besides 
pitching  them  both  head  foremost  out,  with  the  shock. 

"  Catch  old  Ball,  wife !"  sputtered  B.,  as  he  scampered  on. 
Then  looking  back  over  his  shoulder  for  an  instant,  he 
shouted  to  her  in  consolation — 

"  Don't  you  be  afraid — I'll  have  that  bird  yet !"  and  was 
soon  lost  to  her  sight  amidst  the  black  jacks,  that  were  fast 
stripping  his  clothes  from  him. 

Old  Ball,  in  the  meantime,  was  showing  a  clean  pair  of 
heels  down  the  road  for  home.  The  poor  woman,  in  this 
melancholy  plight,  could  only  set  herself  to  repairing  dam- 
ages as  best  she  might,  when  in  the  course  of  fifteen  minutes 

*  Barrens  was  the  name  originally  given  by  the  hunters  to  prairie 
land.  What  is  now  sometimes  called  the  Barrens  is  composed  of  some 
of  the  richest  land  in  the  world — but  the  growth,  except  along  the 
streams,  is  mostly  primary  and  small,  and  stunted  by  the  constant  fires 
in  the  long  grass. 


58  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIKDS. 

or  so,  her  madcap  lord  came  panting  back,  rubbing  his  limbs 
with  a  most  rueful  countenance,  while  his  tattered  clothes 
hung  like  streamers  about  them.  He  looked  at  the  wreck 
of  the  gig,  without  seeming  to  notice  it,  and  with  a  heavy 
sigh  exclaimed — 

"  O  wife  !  wife  !  I  should  have  had  him — the  most  beauti- 
ful young  mocking  bird,  but  for  that  confounded  sink-hole  !"* 

"  But  husband,  see  here.  The  gig's  broken,  and  old  Ball 
has  run — ." 

"  I  had  my  hand  'most  on  him — not  more  than  two  inches ; 
when  I  pitched  head  foremost  down — ." 

"  Hang  the  bird !  Do  look  what  a  fix  we  are  in  !  How 
are  we  to  get  home  ?" 

"  0  dear !  dear  1     If  I  could  only  have  got  that  bird  I" 

"  Husband  !  husband  !"  and  she  shook  him  right  heartily. 

"  What !  Is  the  gig  broken  ?  Why,  my  child,  how  could 
you  be  so  careless  ?  Old  Ball  was  always  a  safe  and  sober 
horse  when  I  held  the  reins !  Bless  the  woman  !  what  could 
have  got  into  you?  That  poor  bird  will  never  find  its 
mother  now  I" 

This  rich  scene  was  interrupted  by  the  appearance  of  one 
of  the  neighboring  farmers,  passing  down  the  road  on  horse- 
back. 

The  wife  summoned  him  to  their  assistance,  and  the  scape- 
grace Ball,  who  had  only  gone  off  a  short  distance  on  a  frolic 
— to  which  he  thought  himself,  no  doubt,  as  well  entitled  as 
his  master — having  been  recaptured  and  brought  back,  the 
ready  resources  of  the  farmer,  aided  by  withs  and  vines,  soon 
repaired  breakages  in  a  protem.  fashion,  which  enabled  them 
to  reach  home — after  dark — as  the  old  lady  always  would 
have  it.  She  used  to  avenge  herself  for  her  fright  and  torn 
bonnet  by  telling  this  story  upon  him  with  merciless  humor 


*  The  barrens  are  covered  in  many  parts  with  these  sudden  pits,  or 
"Sink  Holes,"  as  they  are  called.  It  is  a  lime-stone  region,  and  they 
are  caused  by  the  fissures  in  that  formation. 


BOYHOOD  AND   BIRDS.  59 

before  their  numerous  visitors.  He  was  a  good  old  man,  and 
she  the  most  loving  of  gentle  wives — peace  to  their  souls !  I 
believe  the  strawberries  will  grow  spontaneously  on  their 
graves  who  nourished  them  so  well,  and  the  mocking  birds, 
drawn  by  some  "  sweet  compulsion,"  go  there  to  sing,  while 
flowers  that  were  their  chosen  loves,  will  sure  creep  close,  to 
fill  the  place  with  odors. 

I  did  not  hear  of  this  incident  till  some  five  or  six  years 
after  its  occurrence,  and  then  it  was  called  up  by  my  recital 
to  the  old  man  of  an  adventure  of  my  own,  a  short  time  be- 
fore, which  was  nearly  as  ridiculous  as  this,  and  resembling  it 
in  many  essential  features.  It  was  my  first  meeting  with  the 
mocking  bird,  too ! 

I  was  now  a  stout  youth  of  sixteen,  yet  I  had  never  seen 
the  mocking  bird  ;  though,  of  course,  I  had  read  and  heard 
with  eagerness  much  about  it.  I  knew  all  the  birds  around 
me  so  well,  that  I  could  detect  the  presence  of  a  stranger 
among  them  as  readily  as  I  should  have  noticed  a  sixth  fin- 
ger or  toe,  which  had  suddenly  been  added  to  my  worldly  gifts. 

I  was  gunning  one  day,  in  a  rich  meadow,  on  which  stood 
scattered  many  very  tall  trees.  I  observed  above  the  top- 
most bough  of  one  of  these,  a  strange  bird  alighting  as  if  he 
-  was  afraid  it  would  burn  his  toes.  He  would  just  touch  a 
twig,  while  with  wings  wide  spread,  and  then  bound  un 
again — hovering  doubtfully  over  it,  but  with  a  movement  so 
airy  that  I  could  scarcely  believe  it  a  substantial  creature. 
As  it  thus  fluttered  and  floated  lightly  with  its  front  towards 
me,  it  seemed  all  white,  a  rich,  soft,  creamy  white  from 
throat  to  tip  of  the  long  tail-feathers ;  but,  now,  in  restless 
motion  it  turns  its  dark  back,  and  I  can  see  across  each 
wide-spread  wing  the  white  bar  in  singular,  sudden  con'  rast. 

It  seemed  to  me  a  thing  from  dream-land — so  indescribably 
spiritudle  was  the  grace  of  every  movement !  I  could  only 
form  a  remote  conjecture  as  to  what  the  bird  really  was,  for  it 
proved  so  exceedingly  wary  and  shy,  that  I  found  it  impos- 
sible to  approach  any  nearer.  It  was  not  until  my  patience 


60  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIRDS. 

had  been  entirely  wearied  out  by  its  indomitable  caution  and 
cunning,  that  the  inhospitable  thought  of  murder  came  into 
my  mind.  The  relentless  curiosity  of  the  naturalist  had  been 
aroused;  the  passion  of  the  dissecting  knife,  that  is  glad 
among  the  heart-strings  and  rejoices  with  Death.  I  would 
have  wooed  the  lovely  stranger  to  let  me  know  it  while  it 
lived ;  but,  it  would  not  be  won — now  it  should  die,  for  I 
must  know! 

I  vowed  I  would  have  the  body  of  that  creature — be  it 
from  dream-land  or  "  farthest  Ind" — if  I  had  to  follow  it  a 
week.  But  the  one  day  proved  enough  for  me.  This  was 
a  sultry  twelfth  of  June,  I  recollect  well,  and  I  had  spent 
the  hours  of  the  forenoon  in  creeping  from  tree  to  tree ; 
from  fence-corner  to  fence-corner ;  from  stump  to  stump,  in 
the  pacific  endeavor  to  get  near  enough  to  distinguish  the 
predominating  color  of  the  back — for,  all  that  I  could  yet 
distinguish  was  that  it  was  dark — and  could  not  make  out  the 
form  of  the  bill,  both  of  which  things  were  necessary  for  me  to 
know  before  I  would  have  any  substantial  data  of  investigation 
to  commence  with  in  the  books.  All  had  been  in  vain ;  and 
sweltering  with  heat  and  excitement,  I  ran  back  to  where  I 
had  left  my  gun — muttering  many  a  direful  threat,  as  I  ex- 
amined the  locks  carefully. 

Now  that  I  might  make  sure  of  my  victim,  I  crawled  on 
my  hands  and  knees  for  nearly  two  hundred  yards,  and  found 
myself,  at  last,  within  what,  it  must  be  confessed,  was  long 
range;  but,  within  which,  I  flattered  myself,  I  had  seldom 
missed.  My  gun  was  laid  with  trembling  eagerness  upon  the 
top  of  the  old  stump  which  formed  my  blind.  I  cannot  tell 
how  much  I  trembled — but  I  fired !  The  bird  merely  flut- 
tered lightly  up  and  then  floated  down  again  upon  the  pin- 
nacle bough  where  it  before  sat.  It  had  never  left  the  tops 
of  the  trees  during  the  morning ;  and  I  gritted  my  teeth  in 
disappointment  while  aiming  again  with  iron  firmness.  The 
bird  rose  at  the  second  shot,  and  with  a  slow  and  graceful 
flight,  passed  over  me  high  in  the  air.  I  watched  it  until  I 


BOYHOOD  AND  BIRDS.  61 

saw  it  alight  in  some  high  trees  on  a  plantation  half  a  mile 
distant,  when  my  gun  was  loaded  with  great  care,  and  I  fol- 
lowed with  the  same  success  as  before.  And  so  that  whole 
afternoon  was  passed,  crawling  up  ditches  and  fence-rows, 
through  the  briars ;  over  ploughed  ground,  rough  stones — 
through  marsh  and  puddle — amidst  stumps  and  weeds,  and 
last  year's  stubble,  until,  as  night  closed  and  this  malicious 
phantom-bird  had  disappeared  beneath  its  shadows — 

I  e'en  creep  forth,  all  bruised  and  torn, 
Sore,  hungry,  weary  and  forlorn  ! 

I  did  not  soon  forget  that  evening's  experience,  and  the 
only  consolation  I  had  when  I  came  out  of  the  chase  in 
such  dismal  plight,  was,  that  I  had  left  it  convinced  of  this 
being  the  mocking  bird. 

I  had  vaguely  suspected  this  when  I  first  saw  the  white 
bars  across  the  wings ;  but  then  the  difficulty  in  getting  near 
enough  to  see  the  general  color,  combined  with  the  improb- 
ability of  such  a  bird  being  here — for  I  had  as  soon  expected  to 
have  seen  a  bird  of  Paradise — had  prevented  me  from  realizing 
it  until  the  accidents  of  the  pursuit  enabled  me  to  see  the 
dark  blueish  gray  of  the  back,  and  then  I  was  satisfied. 
This  discovery  only  added  to  my  eagerness ;  but  the  result 
of  the  day's  work  left  me  with  no  stomach  for  such  another 
chase. 

Taking  these  two  receptions  together,  it  is  little  to  be  won- 
dered at  that  the  Pioneer  Birds  should  regard  ours  as  a  rather 
inhospitable  region,  and  for  a  long  time  continue  to  give 
wide  berths  to  every  creature  bearing  the  detestable  effigy 
of  their  persecutors. 

Although  the  old  man  B.  and  myself  had  undoubtedly  the 
worst  of  it,  yet  it  was  altogether  natural  and  proper  that  the 
proud  and  conscious  lords  of  song  should  treat  us  with  hau- 
teur as  boorish  and  ignorant  beings,  who,  incapable  of  appre- 
ciating the  divine  harmonies  they  were  come  to  bestow  upon 


62  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIKDS. 

us,  tad  rudely  turned  our  brutal  arms  against  them  to  drive 
them  forth  from  the  land. 

The  next  spring,  a  new  wonder  filled  the  air.  A  melody 
such  as  I  had  never  heard  before,  burst  in  clear  and  over- 
whelming raptures  from  the  meadows  where  I  had  first  seen 
the  graceful  stranger  with  the  white-barred  wings  last  year. 
I  hastened  thither,  but  left  my  gun  behind  this  time,  for  I 
remembered  that  eventful  twelfth  of  June,  and  that,  too  with 
a  feeling  not  entirely  unmingled  of  awful  respect  for  the  mar- 
velous sagacity  that  could  have  so  cooly  baffled  while  it  led 
me  through  that  wild  and  crazy  race.  The  fact  is,  I  never 
have,  to  this  day,  got  over  that  affair,  and  am  not  sure  that, 
to  this  moment,  I  have  not  a  sort  of  superstition  with  regard 
to  its  events,  and  the  weird  creature  that  caused  them. 

I  saw  it  now  leaping  up  from  its  favorite  perch  on  a  tree 
top,  much  in  the  manner  I  had  observed  before ;  but  now  it 
was  in  a  different  mood,  and  seemed  to  mount,  thus  spirit- 
like,  upon  the  wilder  ecstacies,  and  floating,  fall  on  the  sub- 
siding cadence  of  that  passionate  song  it  poured  into  the  list- 
ening ear  of  love — for,  I  could  see  his  mate,  with  fainter 
bars  across  her  wings,  where  she  sat  upon  a  thorn-bush  near 
and  listened. 

When  this  magnificent  creature  commenced  to  sing,  the 
very  air  was  burdened  with  a  thousand  different  notes ;  but 
his  voice  rose  clear  and  melodiously  loud  above  them  all — 
as  I  listened — one  song  after  another  ceased  suddenly,  until, 
in  a  few  minutes,  and  before  I  could  realize  that  it  was  so,  I 
found  myself  hearkening  to  that  solitary  voice.  This  is  a  pos- 
itive fact !  I  looked  around  me  in  astonishment.  What ! 
Are  they  awed  ?  but  his  song  only  now  grew  more  exulting, 
and,  as  if  feeling  his  triumph,  he  bounded  yet  higher  with 
each  new  gush,  and,  in  swift  and  quivering  raptures  dived, 
skimmed  and  floated  round,  round,  then  rose  to  fall  again 
more  boldly  on  the  billowy  storm  of  sound. 

No  wonder  the  other  birds  were  silent,  to  listen,  for, 
one  after  one  he  hurled  the  notes  of  each  upon  its  ear  so 


BOYHOOD  AND  BIRDS.  63 

alchemyzed  with  splendor,  that  they  knew  not  their  own 
song. 

This  curious  phenomenon  I  have  witnessed  many  times 
since.  Even  in  the  morning  choir,  when  every  little  throat 
seems  strained  in  emulation,  if  the  mocking  bird  breathes 
forth  in  one  of  its  mad,  bewildered  and  bewildering  extrav- 
aganzas, the  other  birds  pause  almost  invariably  and  remain 
silent  until  his  song  is  done.  This,  I  assure  you,  is  no  fig- 
ment of  the  imagination  or  illusion  of  an  excited  fancy ;  it 
is  just  as  substantial  a  fact  as  any  other  one  in  Natural 
History.  Whether  the  other  birds  stop  from  envy,  as  has 
been  said,  or  from  awe,  cannot  be  so  well  ascertained,  but  I 
believe  it  is  from  the  sentiment  of  awe,  for  as  I  certainly  have 
felt  it  myself  in  listening  to  the  mocking  bird,  I  do  not  know 
why  these  inferior  creatures  should  not  also. 

Five  or  six  pairs  of  them  made  their  appearance  in  the 
neighborhood  of  the  town  this  spring,  and  though  they  un- 
doubtedly nested  and  bred  close  at  hand,  all  attempts  to  find 
their  nests  proved  unavailing  to  the  enterprising  youngsters 
of  the  town,  who  had  turned  mocking-bird-mad  all  of  a  sud- 
den— because  they  had  heard  somebody  say,  modestly,  that 
they  were  "  very  fine  singing  birds  indeed  1" — because  Jim 
Snooks — or  Snobs — I  forget  which — had  said  "  he  had  hearn 
of  their  sellin'  for  thirty  dollars! !!  in  New  Orleans!"  Poor 
child  of  song !  It  is  well  for  thee  that  thine  arch  mother- wit 
stood  thee  in  stead,  or  else  thy  glorious  progeny  might  have 
been  ignominiously  consigned  along  with  the  geese,  gigs  and 
chickens  of  some  flat-boat  trader's  cargo — to  be  sold  to  the 
highest  bidder  in  some  northern  mart.  Sentimental  young 
ladies,  too,  became  interested,  because  some  one  had  heard  some- 
body say  that  she  had  heard  the  foreign-looking  young  gen- 
tleman, who  wore  a  moustache  and  claimed  to  be  an  artist, 
(vulgate — Fiddler !)  that  "the  creature  sang  divinely  by  moon- 
light !" — though  it  is  insinuated  to  this  day,  that  he  meant  the 
tree-frog !  So  all  the  ragged  little  hopefuls,  whom  these  young 
feminine  romanticists  delighted  in  calling  their  "naughty 


64  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIRDS. 

brothers,"  were  incited  by  prospective  bribes  of  ginger-bread 
or  candy  to  join  the  hue  and  cry  of  hunters  for  the  nests  of 
the  poor  mocking  birds. 

Though  disgusted  at  all  this,  and  most  seriously  alarmed 
lest  they  should  be  driven  away,  I  myself  continued,  never- 
theless, steadily  and  patiently  to  watch  the  motions  and 
haunts  of  the  birds,  day  and  night,  with  the  hope  of  securing 
a  nest  for  myself.  They  were  something  to  me — aye,  of 
greater  value  than  a  Prince's  ransom !  they  brought  to  me  a 
world  of  music — the  minstrelsy  of  earth  and  air  in  one 
full  throat!  I  had  a  right  to  draw  them  near  me,  that 
they  might  fill  my  soul  with  gladness!  Such  was  the 
logic  with  which  I  justified  myself  over  the  heads  of  other 
sinners ! 

However  specious  and  egotistical  my  logic  may  appear, 
my  zeal  was  by  no  means  impaired  by  any  doubts  as  to  its 
force  and  truth.  Day  by  day  I  prowled  the  meadows, 
hedge-rows  and  gardens,  carefully  concealing  my  object  un- 
der the  pretence  of  gunning,  and  taking  special  care  to  ad- 
minister an  awful  warning  to  the  little,  freebooters  aforesaid, 
whom  I  might  chance  to  meet  in  the  same  search,  upon  the 
evil  consequences  attending  bird-nesting  in  general ;  becom- 
ing even  pathetic  towards  the  middle  of  my  lecture,  and  not 
unfrequently  winding  up,  on  signs  of  obduracy  becoming  too 
apparent,  with  heavy  threats  of  personal  vengeance  if  I  de- 
tected them  in  destroying  a  single  nest. 

Though  I  had  thus  constituted  myself  their  champion,  the 
poor  birds  had  not,  in  all  their  enemies  combined,  so  much 
to  fear,  so  far  as  their  liberty  was  concerned,  as  in  my  single 
self.  I  knew  the  sort  of  locality  in  which  they  might  be  ex- 
pected to  build,  and  there  was  not  a  solitary  thorn  tree,  low 
clump  of  thicket  or  matted  wild  vine  that  escaped  examina- 
tion if  it  stood  somewhat  apart  from  every  other  growth 
for  the  bird,  with  us,  always  selected  such  places  for  its  nest. 

I  know  its  habits  are  very  different  in  the  extreme  South, 
where  I  have  seen  the  nests  placed  openly  upon  the  top  of 


BOYHOOD   AND   BIKDS.  65 

the  fence  alongside  the  public  road,  or  in  fifty  other  places 
just  as  public.  But  this  is  the  mocking  bird  under  different 
circumstances,  if  not  a  very  different  species  of  which  I  now 
speak.  It  is  of  the  hardy  pioneer  in  a  new  country,  subject 
to  the  dangers  and  annoyances,  which  I  have  been  describ- 
ing, and  compelled  to  seek  safety  in  the  exercise  of  the  ex- 
tremest  caution  and  subtlest  sagacity  of  which  it  may  be  pos- 
sessed, of  which  we  are  giving  you  the  characteristics,  not 
the  smaller  and  feebler  native  of  the  emasculating  orange- 
groves,  where  it  has,  from  time  immemorial,  been  protected 
and  indeed  domesticated,  as  our  sparrows  are.  We  tell  you 
of  a  bird  of  lighter  plumage,  of  nearly  one-third  larger  size  and 
weight,  possessing  a  power  of  utterance  superior  in  volume  to 
the  feeble  Southerner,  as  are  the  notes  of  the  clarion  to  the  fife ! 

We  are  describing  a  conqueror,  as  well  as  a  discov- 
erer ;  haughty,  strong,  audacious,  cunning,  adventurous 
and  sagacious,  whose  stormy  and  impetuous  voice  bids 
all  living  things  be  mute  and  listen  to  his  song  of  Earth? 
triumphing  over  silence  ;  whose  hardy  frame  trembles  not 
when  the  North-wind  cometh,  but  who  listeneth  on  his  toss- 
ing perch,  that  he  may  mock  its  piping  when  the  Summer 
comes,  and  scare  the  Tropic-flame  bird  with  the  icy  notes  of 
Winter ;  not  of  a  monotonous,  timid  singer  that  fatigues  the 
ear  with  running  over  a  short  gamut  of  imitations,  the 
sounds  of  which  can  be  distinguished  a  hundred  yards  or  so, 
but  of  a  singer,  whose  notes  are  infinitely  various,  and  may  be 
heard  with  thrillling  distinctesss  over  a  mile.  It  is,  in  a 
word,  of  the  Mocking  Bird  of  Kentucky  and  the  Middle  States 
that  we  speak,  and  not  of  the  Southern  Mocking  Bird,  which 
is,  I  believe  I  can  prove  conclusively,  a  different  species. 

I  know  I  am  running  a  great  risk  in  this  assertion,  but  I 
am  confident  of  being  able  to  maintain,  that  the  bird  of  Ken- 
tucky and  the  Middle  States  is  as  different  from  the  Mock- 
ing Bird  of  Louisiana  as  the  stern,  hardy,  and  giant-limbed 
Pioneer,  who  conquered  the  red-man  of  the  dark  and 
bloody  ground,  was  a  different  man  from  the  small  and 

5 


66  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIKDS. 

emasculated  Mexican  in  his  native  South.  I  shall  take 
some  occasion  to  prove  this  position  more  at  large. 

But,  my  pursuit  did  not  end  with  the  day.  At  night  I 
would  retire  to  my  room,  as  if  to  bed — wait  until  the  night- 
song  of  the  mocking  bird  began,  which  was  usually  about 
eleven  o'clock.  Then,  disguised  in  a  cloak  and  slouched 
hat,  would  let  myself  down  from  the  window  of  my  bed-room 
and  hie  away  to  the  fields  and  meadows ;  for  the  moonlight 
was  tremulous  already  with  the  silver  arrows  of  those  notes 
that  came  now,  all  at  once,  as  if  Cytherias'  quiver  had  been 
emptied  down  the  air,  and  then  one  after  one  would  float  in 
an  ^Eolian  sigh  upon  the  ear,  or  in  a  sharp,  ringing  hiss 
go  darting  by !  0,  the  wonder  of  those  songs  beneath  the 
moon !  The  summer  moonlight  of  southern  Kentucky  is 
not  surpassed  in  the  world  for  brilliancy  and  a  peculiar  soft 
transparency  which  causes  the  most  striking  contrasts  of 
light  and  shade.  The  trees  throw  down  shadows  as  black 
as  solid  midnight,  while  their  tops,  toward  the  moon,  seem 
inspired  of  beams.  Every  object  is  thus  startingly  defined. 
The  smallest  blade  of  grass  stands  out  haloed  in  relief  of  its 
own  black  shadow.  Objects  are  thus  defined  at  astonishing 
distances,  and,  for  the  same  cause,  sounds  transmitted  with 
almost  painful  distinctness.  With  such  accessories  no  music 
I  have  ever  heard  on  earth,  or  expect  to  hear,  has  so  affected 
me  as  the  marvellous  night-song  of  my  favorite  mocking 
bird. 

It  must  be  known  that  these  creatures  differ  from  each 
other  as  do  men  and  women,  in  their  vocal  powers,  and  there 
is  usually  one  bird  in  a  neighborhood  that  supremely  sur- 
passes all  the  rest.  It  is  another  most  remarkable  fact  that 
all  other  mocking  birds  retire  from  the  immediate  neighbor- 
hood of  this  acknowledged  monarch,  to  such  a  distance  that 
you  can  hear  but  the  faintest  note  from  them  in  the  pauses  of 
his  song,  and  that  sounds  as  if  they  but  prolonged  its  echo. 

I  soon  detected  the  monarch  from  the  rest,  and,  as  they 
never  change  their  night-haunts  much,  unless  repeatedly  dis- 


BOYHOOD  AND   BIKDS.  67 

turbed,  I  could  hear  him  on  any  night.  He  lived  in  a  small 
clump  of  trees  which  had  been  left  standing  over  a  sink  hole 
spring  in  a  meadow,  something  like  a  mile  from  my  father's 
house,  and  bordering  upon  a  farm  owned  by  our  old  friend 
B.  Here  I  resorted  regularly,  every  fair  night,  and,  conceal- 
ing my  person  in  a  corner  of  the  fence,  with  my  cloak  about 
me,  would  lie  down  on  the  grass  to  listen.  He  sat  in  a  high 
tree  of  the  clump,  and  I  felt  sure  that  his  mate  brooded  lis- 
tening below  upon  her  nest,  in  one  of  the  low  thorn-bushes 
scattered  around ;  for,  surely,  nothing  but  love  could  have 
made  him  so  drunk  with  music  ! 

At  the  sound  of  my  coming,  he  would  hush  for  awhile, 
and  then,  in  some  short  and  rapid  notes,  the  prelude  opened. 
It  rose  slowly  at  first,  with  many  sharp  transitions,  or  low, 
dreamy  interludes,  as  if  he  mused  and  dallied  with  his  theme, 
— but  now  the  song  begins  to  swell.  Silence  has  attuned  her 
ear,  and  Earth  hears  her  many  voices  singing  in  her  sleep. 

Yes,  they  are  all  there  I  Hear  them,  each  warble,  chirp, 
and  thrill !  How  they  crowd  upon  each  other !  You 
can  hear  the  flutter  of  soft  wings,  as  they  come  hurrying 
forth  !  Hark  I  that  rich,  clear  whistle  !  Bob  White  !  is  it 
you  ?  There,  the  sudden  scream  !  Is  it  a  Hawk  ?  Hey  ! 
what  a  gush  !• — what  a  rolling,  limpid  gush  !  Ah  !  my  dain- 
ty Red-Breast,  at  thy  matins  early  !  Mew !  What,  pussy  ? 
No,  the  Cat-Bird ;  hear  its  low,  liquid  love-notes  linger 
round  the  roses  by  the  garden  walk  !  Hilloa  !  the  world's 
on  fire  ! — listen  !  listen  !  listen  to  that  little  Wren  ! — he  will 
surely  blow  up — he  must  explode  in  the  climax  of  that  little 
agony  of  trills  which  it  is  rising  on  its  very  tip-toes  to 
reach  !  What  now  ?  Quack !  quack  !  phut !  phut !  craunch  [ 
craunch  !  cock-a-doodle-doo  !  What !  the  whole  barn-yard  ? 
Squeak  !  squeak  !  squeak  !• — pigs  and  all !  Hark  that  melan- 
choly plaint ! — Whip-poor-will !  How  sadly  it  conies  from 
out  the  shadowy  distance !  What  a  contrast — the  Red 
Bird's  lively  whistle,  shrilly  mounting  high,  higher,  highest ! 
Hark  the  Orchard-Oracle's  gay,  delicious,  raving,  run-mad, 


68  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONGKBIKDS. 

ranting  riot  of  sweet  sounds !  I  can  see  the  mal-a-pert  keep- 
ing time  with  his  wings,  as  he  goes  sideways,  dipping  up  and 
down,  from  one  apple-tree  top  to  another !  Hear  that !  It 
is  the  Eain-Crow,  croaking  for  a  storm  !  Hey-dey  !  Jay  I 
jay  !  jay  !  It  is  the  impish  dandy  Blue- Jay  !  Hear,  he  has 
a  strange,  round,  mellow  whistle,  too !  There  goes  the  little 
yellow-throated  warbler — the  Wood-Pecker's  sudden  call — 
the  King-Bird's  waspish  clatter — the  Dove's  low,  plaintive 
coo — the  little  owl's  screeching  cry  and  snapping  beak — the 
Tom-tit's  tiny  note — the  King  Fisher's  rattle — the  caw,  the 
scream,  the  cry  of  love,  of  hate,  or  joy — all  come  rapidly  and 
in  unexpected  contrasts  ;  yet  with  such  clear  precision,  that 
each  bird  is  fully  expressed  to  my  mind  in  its  own  individ- 
uality. 

Thus,  all  the  past  of  my  communion  with  such  creatures, 
and  with  each  fresh  reality  of  the  abounding  Earth  that  I  so 
loved,  is  made  to  me  as  a  presence  in  which  I  live  again. 
But,  then,  that  wondrous  song  could  speak  yet  higher  music, 
as  the  swollen  tide  rushed,  in  wilder  eddies,  yet  more  tame- 
less, on  ;  and  then,  amongst  these  hurrying  notes  I  knew,  a 
thousand  liquid  strains  would  dart,  in  play,  through  and 
around,  to  meet  them  in  mysterious  whirls  of  flashing  sound. 
These  mystic  meanings  nature  only  knew ;  my  half-awed 
spirit  could  but  dimly  feel  them  !  Ah  !  what  calm,  delicious 
hours  were  those  !  Until  three  o'clock  I  would  lie  as  one 
entranced  within  a  dream  of  harmonies,  such  as  the  soul  of 
nature  taught  old  Chaos  until  he  rendered  up  their  notes  in 
form  and  order,  and  the  world  took  beauty  on. 

At  three  o'clock  the  songs  would  cease,  and  then  my 
spirit  fell  as  one  plunging  down  from  glowing  light  into  the 
sullen  dark.  Many,  many  nights  have  I  thus  spent  beneath 
the  moon  and  listening  stars,  when  my  good  parents  thought 
me  safely  asleep  in  my  bed.  Ah,  those  songs — those  night- 
songs — ye  can  never  pass  away. 

As  yet,  I  had  never  obtained  a  near  view  of  a  mocking 
bird — much  as  I  worshipped  the  creature  ;  and  as  to  finding 


BOYHOOD   AND   BIEDS.  69 

a  nest,  mine  was  the  luck  of  all  the  rest  of  the  would-be  rob- 
bers.    But,  perseverance  has  its  reward. 

One  day  I  had  paused  near  the  "  sink-hole  spring"  to  hear 
my  favorite  mocker  sing  by  day -light,  for  variety — when, 
instead  of  a  song,  I  saw — what  ?  A  splendid  pair  of  mock- 
ing birds,  disporting  themselves  gaily  along  the  fences  and 
in  the  grass  of  the  very  slip  of  meadow  in  the  corner  of 
which  I  made  my  usual  nightly  couch  ! 

I  drew  a  long  breath.  What  a  discovery !  How  tame 
they  are !  It  must  be  some  mysterious  sympathy  !  The 
male  must  be  that  magnificent  bird  I  have  listened  to  so 
many  nights  with  rapture,  and  never  seen  !  Hah  !  these 
have  a  black  mark  under  the  eye  ;  the  Southern  bird  I  re- 
member has  not  that  mark  in  the  plates  of  it  that  1  have  seen. 
This  must  be  a  new  variety  !  I  have  heard  my  uncle  and 
father,  who  have  been  to  New  Orleans,  describe  the  Southern 
bird.  It  certainly  has  no  such  mark  as  this,  which  resembles 
that  under  the  eye  of  the  Red-Bird ;  and  from  what  they 
have  told  me  of  its  singing,  it  cannot  be  near  equal  to  this 
glorious  creature.  My  mother,  though,  has  described  the 
bird  in  northern  Kentucky,  where  she  knew  it,  and  from 
what  she  has  told  me,  this  must  be  the  very  one.  It  must  be 
this  same  wonderful  bird  I  have  been  listening  to  ! 

O,  how  happy  I  was  !  I  crouched  down  beside  the  fence 
for  fear  I  might  chance  to  startle  them,  and  gazed  in  eager, 
anxious  admiration.  What  a  handsome  bird !  It  seems 
rather  shorter,  though,  than  I  expected  from  the  appearance 
of  those  at  a  distance  ;  and  there  is  the  white  bar  across  the 
wings.  But,  somehow  or  other,  the  wings  do  not  seem  so 
wide,  nor  the  stripe  so  broad  ;  its  neck,  too,  disappoints  me  ; 
it  appears  much  shorter  and  thicker  than  I  supposed.  But, 
that's  easily  enough  accounted  for  in  the  fact,  that  it  must 
require  a  very  powerful  neck  to  emit  such  loud  sounds.  But 
it  is  a  lovely  bird,  with  that  light,  gray  plumage  so  delicately 
marked  on  the  breast,  and  looks  so  warlike  with  the  black 
mark  under  its  eye  !  Ah  !  I  see  its  bill  is  very  hooked ;  it 


70  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIRDS. 

gives  it  quite  the  appearance  of  a  little  hawk !     How  happy 
was  I ! 

Look !  look  I  They  fly  towards  that  great  black  oak  over 
the  spring !  As  I  live !  there's  a  nest  there  !  I  hear  the 
cry  of  the  young  ones !  Strange  place  for  mocking  birds 
to  build  in,  according  to  accounts.  But  this  is  a  new  varie- 
ty ;  they,  no  doubt,  prefer  large  trees. 

The  mate  now  flew  to  the  same  cluster  of  scrubby  twigs, 
or  small  limbs,  that  grew  out  from  a  diseased  portion  o'f  the 
trunk  that  formed  a  large  knot,  bristling  u  like  quills  upon 
a  fretful  porcupine."  She  lit  in  the  bosom  of  this  ugly 
excrescence,  and,  as  I  again  heard  the  cries  of  the  young, 
I  sprang  from  my  place  of  concealment — with  my  heart  in 
my  throat — leaped  the  fence,  ran  at  full  speed  to  the  tree, 
stripped  of  my  coat  and  shoes,  and  before  I  knew  what  I 
was  doing,  had  ascended  as  nimbly  as  a  squirrel  the  trunk 
of  a  tree  that  I  would  not  have  attempted  to  climb  for  a  for- 
tune, under  other  circumstances. 

It  was  well  I  did  not  stop  to  think,  or  I  should  never  have 
reached  the  limbs.  As  it  was,  now  that  I  found  myself  up, 
the  difficulty  of  getting  at  the  nest  seemed  as  great  as  ever. 
The  small  limbs  that  bristled  out  from  the  great  excrescence 
were  as  tough  as  they  could  be,  and,  how  I  was  to  drag  my 
body  over  them  so  as  to  reach  the  nest  was  the  question — 
but  when,  by  rising  on  tip-toe,  I  could  peep  over  the  edges 
of  the  nest  and  see  the  heads  and  bright  eyes  of  four  lusty 
young  birds,  I  literally  tore  my  way  through  all  obstruc- 
tions, and  with  eager  hands  grasped  at  my  treasure.  I  seiz- 
ed three,  and  the  fourth  sprang  out  in  time  to  elude  me  and 
sailed  down.  Just  at  this  moment  I  saw  my  old  friend  B. 
approaching  to  see  what  I  could  be  at.  I  shrieked  out  to  him 
in  my  tribulation  ;  for  the  little  wretches  had  bitten  my  hand 
so  severely  that  the  pain,  and  imminent  danger  of  falling 
combined,  had  compelled  me  to  let  them  go  and  save  my 
neck. 

"My  mocking  birds!     Catch  my  mocking  birds,  Mr.  B. 


BOYHOOD  AND  BIRDS.  71 

Oil !  I  wouldn't  lose  them  for  the  world !  catch  them  !  catch 
them  I" 

I  shrieked  in  my  agony — for  I  had  got  myself  hung  upon 
that  knot  by  the  remaining  rags  of  my  clothes,  and  the 
dread  of  losing  my  birds  was  even  greater  than  that  of 
breaking  my  neck.  The  old  gentleman  heartily  sympathiz- 
ing with  me,  sprung  to  the  work  right  briskly,  and,  although 
they  compelled  him  to  let  them  go  several  times  by  the  se- 
verity of  their  bites,  yet  he  finally  succeeded  in  capturing 
three,  which  were  fastened  down  under  my  hat. 

During  the  chase,  I  heard  several  very  droll  exclamations 
from  him  which  gave  me  a  decidedly  contemptible  opinion 
of  his  attainments  as  a  naturalist.  As  he  shook  one  of  the 
fierce  little  wretches  off — that  had  fastened  upon  his  finger 
when  he  tried  to  seize  it — he  cried  out  with  an  exclamation 
of  pain  and  surprise — 

"  Ough  !  Young  mocking  birds  didn't  bite  that  fashion 
in  old  Virginia — my  boy  !  Don't  like  that  black  spot  under 
the  eye  !  They  do  look  mightly  like  mocking  birds,  too  ! 
How  they  do  squall!  Why  they're  as  strong  as  young 
wild  cats,  and  as  fierce  too  !  There !  there !  that  one's  gone !" 

"  Gone  where  ?"  I  gasped,  as  I  descended  the  tree  with  a 
speed  which  seemed  much  more  like  falling  than  climbing 
down,  and  completed  the  demolishment  of  my  forlorn  inex- 
pressibles. 

"  He  ran  under  these  rocks  and  you'll  never  get  him 
again,  I'm  afraid." 

"  Never  get  him  ?"  and  I  almost  burst  into  tears  at  the 
thought  of  losing  one  of  my  precious  new  variety.  The 
spring  came  from  under  a  sort  of  cave,  and  there  were  loose 
piles  of  stone  intended  once  for  walls  on  each  side  of  the 
basin.  Into  these  the  cunning  youngster  had  crawled,  and 
was  far  enough  beyond  our  reach.  I  consoled  myself  by 
heaping  stones  so  as  to  prevent  its  escape,  and  determined 
to  go  home  and  secure  the  prize  in  hand,  and  then  return 
with  a  negro  man  to  dig  this  one  out  for  me.  This  was  not 


72  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIRDS. 

my  only  annoyance — for  the  old  gentleman  kept  insinuating 
as  we  walked  on  towards  my  father's,  that  these  were 
"  mighty  strange  sort  of  mocking  birds,"  until  my  insulted 
dignity  as  a  naturalist  and  discoverer,  fairly  blazed  out  in 
wrath,  as  I  remarked  in  a  most  emphatic  manner, 

"Mr.  B.  I  repeat  to  you  sir,  that  this  is  a  new  variety 
of  mocking  birds  !  When  you  have  spent  as  many  nights  as 
I  have  sir,  in  ascertaining  the  fact — when  you  have  heard 
the  male  parent  sing  as  many  hours  as  I  have,  while  you 
were  sound  asleep,  then  you  too  will  be  convinced  that  I 
have  not  only  discovered  a  new  variety,  but  that  I  have  now 
in  my  possession  a  nest  of  the  finest  singers  in  the  world." 

This  long  speech,  with  all  its  emphasis,  did  not  seem  to 
entirely  convince  the  old  man,  who  could  not  get  over  the 
way  they  bit,  and  that  black  spot  under  the  eye  ;  but,  I  saw 
it  staggered  him  some,  and  when,  as  we  were  parting,  he 
rather  hinted  that  he  should  like  to  have  a  male  bird,  if  they 
turned  out  as  I  expected,  I  turned  upon  him  quite  a  com- 
passionate look  as  I  promised  smilingly,  "  of  course — in  case 
they  turn  out  to  be  mocking  birds,  Mr.  B.  you  shall  have 
one  of  the  males  if  I  have  two." 

This  was  my  grand  triumph,  and  I  was  proud  as  Lucifer 
when  I  exhibited  my  captives  to  the  family ;  and  great  were 
the  rejoicings  of  my  sister  over  my  brilliant  success.  But  the 
triumph  was  incomplete,  while  one  of  the  precious  family 
remained  behind,  and  soon  I  was  on  my  return,  accompanied 
by  a  strong  negro  man  to  dig  the  runaway  out  of  the  rocks. 
It  was  a  work  of  several  hours,  and  during  its  progress  I  ob- 
served something  curious  on  one  of  the  thorn  bushes  near — 
that  had  died  the  year  before ;  though  the  thorns  were  stiff 
and  tough  as  ever.  This  phenomenon  consisted  of  the  bodies 
of  some  dozen  of  the  common  gray  or  fence  lizard,  which 
had  been  impaled  carefully  upon  the  topmost  thorns.  They 
seemed  to  be  in  all  stages  of  demolishment  and  decay,  from 
the  entire  reptile  that  was  bleeding  and  scarcely  cold,  to  the 
mere  blackened  fragment  that  had  been  eaten  away  close  up 


BOYHOOD  AND  BIRDS.  73 

to  the  thorn  on  which  it  was  spitted,  and  now  seemed  ready 
to  drop  to  pieces  at  a  touch.  It  struck  me  at  first  that  some 
stupid  boys  must  have  been  amusing  themselves  in  torturing 
the  lizards,  but  then  I  saw  that  those  thorns  could  not  be 
reached  from  below,  and  it  was  evident  that  some  creature 
was  eating  them  gradually.  This  recalled,  dimly,  to  my  re- 
collection, an  anecdote  I  had  heard  somewhere  of  a  bird  that 
was  in  the  habit  of  impaling  lizards  in  this  way  that  they 
might  become  decomposed  somewhat  by  the  action  of  the 
sun,  to  prepare  them  for  being  eaten — but,  as  I  could  not  re- 
call the  name  of  the  bird  just  then,  I  somewhat  hastily  dis- 
missed the  subject  from  my  mind  for  the  time ;  I  know  not 
for  or  what  reason,  but,  because  it  somehow  made  me  feel 
uncomfortable. 

The  runaway  was  reached  at  last,  and  I  now  returned  as 
proud  of  the  success  of  my  perseverence  and  enterprise  as 
of  the  birds  themselves,  and  my  new  discovery.  The  first 
person  I  met,  when  I  reached  home,  was  my  sister,  who  ran 
to  me,  exclaiming — • 

"Brother!  you  never  did  see  creatures  eat  like  our  little 
birds !  They  do  nothing  but  eat,  eat,  eat,  all  the  time.  I 
never  knew  before  that  mocking  birds  were  so  greedy — 
and  then  they  bite  me  so  I" 

I  smiled  benignantly,  as  became  a  youthful  Cuvier,  and 
holding  out  to  her  the  new  one,  said,  patronizingly — 

"Look  here!  He  could  not  escape  me;  although  this 
new  variety  have  the  cunning  of  wizzards !  Never  mind  the 
appetite,  Sis — we  shall  be  the  more  certain  to  raise  them, 
and  their  magnificent  song  shall  repay  us  for  a  little  addi- 
tional trouble !" 

But  Sis  was  not  so  easily  comforted,  for  she  said,  as  she 
showed  me  some  ugly  marks  where  they  had  been  biting  her 
little  fingers  severely — 

"Well,  brother,  I  hope  you  will  not  find  any  more  of 
your  new  variety,  for  I  expect  to  have  my  fingers  eaten  off 
by  these  that  you  have.  They  are  not  content  with  snatch- 


74  WILD  SCENES  AND   SONG-BIEDS. 

ing  down  everything  I  can  find  to  give,  but  have  been  try- 
ing to  bite  off  the  fingers  that  fed  them  !" 

"  I  am  sorry  for  your  fingers,  dear,  and  you  must  let  me 
feed  them  hereafter — but  I  like  their  appetite  and  their 
spunk,  they  should  have  both,  to  sing  as  they  are  going  to 
sing!" 

"  Well,  brother — have  it  your  own  way ;  but  I  don't  be- 
lieve in  making  an  angel  out  of  a  glutton  !" 

This  last  remark  rather  stung  me,  for  somehow  or  other, 
since  the  discovery  of  the  impaled  lizards,  I  had  been  feeling 
uncomfortable.  I  went  to  the  cage,  and  they  received  me 
with  clamorous  cries  for  more !  I  immediately  got  for  them 
a  quantity  of  food,  such  as  I  had  supposed  to  be  best  for  them, 
from  what  I  had  read  and  heard  of  their  habits.  I  found,  to 
my  astonishment,  that  they  would  eat  nothing  but  earth 
worms  and  fresh  meat — farinaceous  food  they  rejected  with 
disdain — and  certainly  gulphed  down  as  much  as  their  own 
weight  every  few  hours. 

The  thing  was  becoming  more  inexplicable,  and  what 
made  matters  still  worse,  my  sister,  for  the  first  time  in  her 
life,  refused  to  share  my  cares  with  me.  She  had  taken  a 
most  unconquerable  dislike  to  the  creatures ;  declared  she 
was  absolutely  afraid  of  them,  and  shuddered  when  they 
were  brought  near  her.  This  reception  of  my  new  variety 
mortified  me  excessively ;  but  I  consoled  myself  that  I  was 
doomed  to  the  common  martyrdom  of  discoverers,  and 
nursed  my  uncouth  and  boisterous  pets  with  even  the  greater 
assiduity  that  they  were  rejected  of  men ! 

I  now  let  them  run  about  the  yard  ;  for  I  soon  found  that 
the  ravin  in  their  maws  constituted  a  sufficient  parole  of 
honor  to  ensure  their  return  to  where  food  was  to  be  obtain- 
ed ;  but  one  morning  I  witnessed  a  trick  of  one  of  my  vaga- 
bonds that  considerably  stumped  me.  He  had  straggled 
around  to  the  back  of  the  house,  and  got  into  the  poultry 
yard.  I  saw  him  march  very  deliberately  up  to  a  brood  of 
young  chickens,  and  without  saying  "  by  your  leave"  to  any- 


BOYHOOD  AND   BIRDS.  75 

body,  pounced  upon  one  in  the  most  savage  fashion,  and 
would  have  killed  it  in  an  instant,  but  that  the  old  hen  rush- 
ed to  the  rescue,  with  a  blow  that  sent  the  young  robber  sev- 
eral feet  distant.  The  indignant  mother  followed  up  the  at- 
tack, and  I  was  about  to  interfere  when,  to  my  surprise,  the 
young  wretch,  with  all  his  feathers  bristling,  like  a  little 
hedge -hog,  threw  himself  upon  his  back  and  awaited  the  on- 
set with  open  mouth  and  fierce  eyes.  The  hen  struck  at 
him  with  her  beak,  and  quick  as  lightning  he  clutched  her 
head  with  his  claws,  and  the  astonished  hen  ran  squalling 
off,  shaking  her  head  in  agony  to  get  rid  of  this  new  sort  of 
head-gear.  When  she  had  shaken  him  off,  she  ran  away  in  a 
great  fright,  and  he  strutted  around  with  a  most  conscious  air. 

"Well!"  muttered  I,  "this  is  getting  to  be  something 
of  a  joke — my  new  variety  seems  to  have  more  of  the  hawk 
than  the  song  bird  in  it.  I  never  heard  of  mocking  birds 
killing  young  chickens  or  whipping  old  hens  before ! 
Eather  a  war-like  variety  of  song  bird,  this  new  one  of  mine ! 
I  must  look  over  my  books  and  see  something  about  that 
lizard  story." 

That  lizard  story  had  always  haunted  me — though  I  had 
not  been  able  to  summon  courage  to  look  it  up.  Just  at 
this  moment  my  sister,  who  had  witnessed  the  little  scene 
above,  and  heard  a  part  of  my  muttered  soliloquy,  from  a 
window  close  at  hand — burst  into  a  ringing  laugh,  and  as  I 
looked  up,  disappeared.  In  a  moment  she  came  bounding 
down  the  steps  to  meet  me,  with  a  small  book  in  her  hand, 
which  I  recognized  with  a  forboding  thrill,  before  she  reached 
me.  It  was  a  small  school  edition  of  selections  from  orni- 
thology, with  wood-cut  illustrations.  She  held  her  hand  on 
the  page  to  cover  something,  while  she  read  as  well  as  she 
could  for  laughter,  Wilson's  version  of  the  lizard  story,  and 
when  she  got  through  removed  her  hand  suddenly  from  the 
cut,  and  though  it  was  remarkably  rudely  done,  I  instantly 
recognized  in  my  new  variety — "THE  BUTCHER  BIRD!" 
Exeunt  omnes — screaming  with  laughter. 


76  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIRDS. 

The  many  times  I  "had  been  baffled  in  my  pursuit  of  the 
mocking  bird,  only  increased  the  fixedness  of  my  resolution 
to  accomplish  my  purpose  of  capture. 

I  managed  to  survive  the  mortification  of  mistaking  the 
Shrike,  or  Butcher  Bird,  for  a  new  variety,  and  endeavored, 
by  the  most  exemplary  meekness,  to  atone  for  the  arrogance 
of  the  self-constituted  Naturalist  and  Discoverer.  Indeed,  I 
was  now,  on  occasion,  quite  eloquent  upon  the  subject  of 
the  too  frequent  presumptuousness  of  youthful  and  inexpe- 
rienced amateurs,  in  jumping  at  conclusions  over  the  heads 
of  aged  and  profound  science,  on  the  strength  of  a  single 
"  modern  instance,"  with  regard  to  the  place  and  meaning 
of  which,  their  ignorance  may  be  utterly  at  fault. 

I  have  been  sensitive  on  the  subject  of  new  varieties  ever 
since,  and,  although,  in  spite  of  my  Butcher  Bird  disaster,  I 
have  yet  ventured  to  assert  still  the  existence  of  a  second 
variety  of  the  mocking  bird  ;  yet  I  shall  do  so  with  the  ter- 
rors of  the  past  before  my  eyes  and  on  my  conscience. 

In  the  meantime,  I  shall  relate  the  "  pretty  and  effective 
manner"  in  which  my  pet  sister  came  to  my  rescue  in  the 
case  of  some  young  mocking  birds  with  whom  I  got  into  a 
droll  difficulty ! 

I  commenced  to  tell  this  curious  affair,  but  the  story  of 
old  man  B.  coming  up,  set  me  to  remembering  something  of 
my  own  disasters  in  the  same  pursuit,  and  then  I  had  to  tell 
the  whole  affair  right  out.  The  good  old  man  !  If  I  have 
had  my  laugh  at  him,  it  is  only  "  turn  about ;"  for  he  used  to 
quiz  me  most  unmercifully  about  my  new  variety — though, 
by  the  way,  I  must  say,  I  have  heard  of  worse  mistakes  than 
that  being  made ! 

"Well,  in  short,  I  was  riding  past  the  memorable  sink-hole 
spring,  a  few  days  after  the  late  denouement,  when,  to  my 
delight,  I  discovered  a  genuine  mocking  bird  upon  its  nest, 
in  one  of  those  scattered  thorn  trees  to  which  I  have  so  fre- 
quently alluded.  There  was  no  mistake  this  time  ;  and  stop- 
ping my  horse  at  a  short  distance — so  as  not  to  disturb  the 


BOYHOOD  AND   BIKDS.  77 

bird — I  gazed  long  and  eagerly  upon  her,  and  now  made  out 
clearly  enough  the  differences  in  color  and  outline  which  had 
so  confused  me  in  the  Shrike.  She  was  setting,  evidently ; 
but  my  heart  beat  loudly  with  apprehension  when  I  looked 
around  me  and  saw  that  there  were  a  number  of  boys  in 
sight,  who  had  observed  me.  Although  the  nest  was  most 
ingeniously  placed,  and  accident  alone  had  revealed  it  to 
me  ;  yet  I  feared  that  it  would  not  escape  the  search  of  these 
sharp-eyed  ragamuffins,  if  their  suspicion  should  chance  to 
have  been  aroused  by  my  position,  which  would,  of  course, 
give  them  all  the  clue  they  needed  for  a  successful  search. 
I  rode  out  slowly  towards  them,  discussing  with  myself,  on 
the  way,  whether  it  was  best  to  tell  them  the  truth  and  buy 
them  off,  or  run  the  risk  of  removing  their  suspicions  by  my 
indifferent  air.  I  concluded  that  the  last  was  the  best  course. 

They  were  standing  on  the  side  of  the  road,  awaiting  my 
approach,  and  I  determined  suddenly  upon  trying  a  grand 
stroke  of  policy,  by  way  of  diversion  to  their  lawless  enter- 
prise. 

"  Boys,"  said  I,  stopping  my  horse  among  them,  "do  you 
want  to  make  a  shilling  apiece  this  morning  ?" 

(There  were  four  of  them — the  most  incorrigible  little  row- 
dies in  the  place.) 

"  Yes  !  yes  I  yes !  What  do  you  want  ?  What  is  it  ?" 

"Why,  I  found  a  squirrel's  nest  yesterday,  out  by  the 
Sulphur  Spring,  and  the  hollow  is  too  small  for  my  hand. 
Now,  if  you  will  get  a  hatchet  and  go  out  there  with  me,  and 
one  of  j^ou  climb  and  cut  the  hollow  for  me,  I  will  give  you 
a  shilling  apiece,  and  two  of  the  young  ones  if  there  are 
four." 

The  proposition  was  instantly  and  eagerly  accepted.  One 
of  the  party  ran  off  to  his  father's  house,  which  was  near,  for 
a  hatchet ;  while  we  moved  slowly  on. 

I  was  just  chuckling  at  the  success  of  my  ruse,  when  one 
of  the  little  villians  looked  up  with  a  mischievous  expression 
and  asked — 


78  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIRDS. 

"You  'ain't  found  any  mocking  bird's  nest  yet — have  you  ?" 

I  could  not  help  reddening  for  the  life  of  me,  and  an- 
swered sharply — 

"  I  have  told  you  there  are  no  mocking  birds'  nests  about 
here  to  find.  What  put  that  into  your  head,  you  scamp  ?" 

"  O,  nothin'  at  all !  What  was  you  lookin'  at  so,,  down 
thar  in  the  thorn  bushes  ?" 

"  Pshaw  !  You'd  better  go  and  see,  you  silly  fellow !  I 
find  a  great  many  things  to  look  at.  I  have  stood  for  an 
hour  over  an  ant-hill.  You'd  better  follow  my  trail,  if  you 
like  such  amusement !" 

"  Drat  if  I  don't  go  and  see  what's  in  them  'ar  thorn 
trees  !  I  believe  they  is  somethin'  thar  mor'n  a  ant-hill  ?" 

I  could  have  strangled  the  pertinacious  little  ruffian  ;  and 
it  required  a  very  great  struggle  for  me  to  contain  myself; 
for  I  well  knew  that  if  I  let  my  excitement  be  seen,  the  case 
was  a  hopeless  one  from  that  instant ;  for  nothing  could  save 
my  mocking  bird's  nest  then,  as  they  would  be  sure  to  de- 
stroy it  in  sheer  wantonness.  I  answered  as  coolly  as  I 
could — 

"  Well,  go  ahead  youngster ;  you'll  be  apt  to  find  a  bag  of 
dollars,  no  doubt !" 

I  was  now  seriously  alarmed,  and  never,  as  I  flattered  my- 
self, exerted  greater  ingenuity  or  more  consummate  tact,  than 
in  my  efforts  this  morning,  to  turn  aside  suspicion  from  those 
unlucky  thorn  trees.  I  put  them  on  half-a-dozen  different 
scents,  and  offered  such  rewards  as  I  thought  would  ensure 
the  direction  of  their  inquisitive  activity  toward  other  ob- 
jects. 

Our  foray  against  the  poor  squirrels  was  successful,  and  I 
managed  that  my  youthful  inquisitor  should  get  one  of  them, 
and  in  every  way  endeavored  to  propitiate  him.  I  saw  he 
had  got  it  into  his  head  that  I  was  afraid  of  him,  on  account 
of  something  or  other  I  had  found  in  those  thorns,  and  knew 
that  his  malicious  love  of  mischief  was  only  equalled  by  his 
inquisitive  and  suspicious  temper.  My  only  hope,  therefore, 


BOYHOOD  AND  BIEDS.  79 

was  to  propitiate  and  keep  him  busy  until  the  thornbushes 
might  be  forgotten. 

I  managed  to  convince  myself,  before  we  parted,  that  I 
had  no  doubt  succeeded ;  that  it  was  impossible  he  would 
ever  think  of  the  circumstance  again.  So  anxious  was  I, 
however,  that  I  rode  past  the  thorn  tree  a  dozen  times  that 
day,  taking  care  never  to  stop  or  turn  my  head  towards  it 
again ;  but,  stealing  a  quick  side-glance  which  showed  that 
all  was  right — would  pass  on. 

The  grand  discovery  was  of  course  revealed  to  my  sister ; 
though,  this  time,  it  was  with  something  more  of  humility 
than  had  marked  the  announcements  of  the  ci  devant  "youth- 
ful Cuvier  r 

So  eager  were  we  to  watch  over  the  nest  and  make  sure 
that  it  had  not  been  despoiled,  that  we  were  off  on  our  usual 
morning  ride  for  the  Sulphur  Springs  before  sunrise,  and 
stopped  a  few  minutes  near  the  nest  to  give  her  an  opportu- 
nity to  see.  There  was  no  danger  of  the  vagabond  boys 
being  on  the  watch  this  early,  and  we  had  an  undisturbed 
view  of  that  lovely  mother  with  her  dark,  bright,  patient 
eyes,  so  calmly  fixed  upon  us,  and  we  watched  while  the 
globules  of  dew  would  gather  and  roll  off  her  sheltering  plu- 
mage. She  looked  so  meek,  so  brave,  so  faithful  to  her  pre- 
cious charge,  that  we  relented  of  our  cruel  purpose,  and 
vowed,  if  we  could  protect  her  from  the  cruel  boys,  that  we 
would  place  the  young  ones  in  a  little  cage,  so  that  she 
could  nurse  them  herself,  and  try,  through  her  affection  for 
them,  to  win  this  splendid  pair  to  come  and  live  on  our 
place.  Indeed,  this  was  my  usual  object  in  endeavoring  to 
capture  young  birds.  I  had  no  intention  of  keeping  them 
prisoners  longer  than  was  necessary  to  domesticate  them  to 
my  father's  grounds. 

I  had  often  done  this,  and  know  it  to  be  quite  practicable 
— though  there  was  a  great  risk  of  losing  the  pets  after  all 
my  trouble,  for  they  become  so  confiding  as  to  be  constantly 
in  danger  from  the  brutalities  of  men.  The  temptation, 


80  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIRDS. 

therefore,  had  been  very  great  to  retain  these  valuable  birds 
in  close  confinement,  rather  than  run  such  risks,  and  indeed 
we  had  determined  to  do  so  should  we  succeed  in  obtaining 
them ;  but  now  the  sight  of  that  gentle  mother  had  moved 
us,  and,  to  confess  the  truth,  we  felt  our  tenure  to  be  so  very 
insecure,  that  we  were  just  now  a  little  like  the  sailor  in  the 
storm,  ready  to  promise  his  patron  saint  pretty  much  any- 
thing if  he  would  only  help  him  out  this  time  ! 

As  we  returned  from  our  ride,  all  was  safe,  and  I  took 
good  care  to  be  along  that  way  several  times  during  the 
day.  So  the  matter  progressed  for  several  days,  and  as  our 
solicitude  had  been  rewarded  by  finding  everything  right 
at  each  of  our  frequent  visits  thus  far,  we  had  commenced 
congratulating  ourselves  that  the  danger  was  over,  and  that 
my  strategy  had  succeeded  in  turning  aside  the  dangerous 
curiosity  of  the  boys. 

It  was  in  this  mood  we  approached  the,  now,  interesting 
thorn  tree,  on  the  fourth  morning  of  our  rides  in  this  direc- 
tion. We  were  discussing  between  ourselves  the  probabili- 
ties of  the  young  being  hatched  by  this  time,  for,  as  yet,  we 
had  only  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  greenish  eggs,  spotted  with 
amber  brown,  when  the  brooding  female  lifted  a  wing  as  she 
shifted  her  position.  We  were  in  the  midst  of  a  gay  and 
happy  chatter  when  we  reached  the  tree,  before  I  observed 
that  we  were  so  near.  There  was  an  exclamation  of  pain 
and  surprise  from  my  sister.  I  looked — the  nest  was  gone ! 
The  shady  and  thorn-guarded  bosom  of  the  tree  was  bare,  to 
a  few  dried  twigs  and  shreds  of  roots  !  A  choking  sensation 
of  rage  and  grief  came  over  me  as  I  sprang  from  the  saddle 
to  examine  for  traces  of  the  robbers.  Vengeance  was  the 
first  thought.  "Look!  look  brother!  they  are  dead!"  and 
my  sister  points  to  the  foot  of  the  tree,  where,  on  a  scrap  of 
old  carpet,  the  poor  little  callow  things,  just  one  day  in  an 
inhospitable  world,  lay  stark  and  motionless. 

"Poor  things — they  are  dead !"  and  I  stooped  to  examine 
them.  They  certainly  could  not  have  been  more  than  a  day 


BOYHOOD   AND   BIRDS.  81 

old  in  this  external  life.  The  large,  blue,  bulbous-looking 
eyes  had  never  yet  been  opened,  and  they  were  entirely  bare 
on  most  parts  of  the  body.  As  I  examined  them  in  silence, 
it  suddenly  occurred  to  me  to  see  if  pulsation  had  entirely 
ceased,  though  I  had  not  at  the  moment  the  most  remote  ex- 
pectation either  that  they  could  have  survived  exposure  to 
the  chill  night  air ;  or,  even  if  they  had  been  fully  alive,  of 
being  able  to  raise  them  myself.  It  would  require  a  more 
delicate  skill  than  mine  to  keep  the  life-current  moving  in 
those  frail  bodies.  I  was  simply  curious  to  see  how  long 
any  indications  of  life  would  survive  such  cold' — for  the  little 
creatures  felt  like  lumps  of  ice  in  my  hands.  To  my  great 
surprise  I  saw  through  the  transparent  tissues  of  the  under 
parts  of  the  body,  that  circulation  still  went  on.  I  could 
clearly  see  all  the  exquisite  machinery  of  the  heart  and  arte- 
ries working  freely  like  some  fairy  watch.  I  uttered  an  ex- 
clamation of  surprise,  mingled  with  joy,  as  a  new  idea  at  the 
same  moment  flashed  through  my  brain. 

"  Wonderful !  why  they  are  alive  yet.  We  won't  be 
cheated  out  of  our  pets.  I  am  determined  they  shall  live 
yet !  See  how  their  tiny  hearts  beat !  Here,  dear,  put  them 
in  that  warm  little  bosom  of  yours,  and  they  will  soon  be 
well  as  ever  again." 

"  But,  brother,  what  good  is  it  going  to  do  to  bring  the 
little  creatures  to  life?  The  mother  has  been  frightened 
away,  the  nest  is  destroyed,  and  they  will  die  before  she 
comes  back  again,  if  she  ever  does." 

<;  O,  you  must  be  mother  just  now  !  put  them  in." 

"I  cannot  feed  such  tender  things  as  these.  My  fingers 
are  not  small  enough,  and  I  do  not  know  what  to  give 
them !  It's  a  pity  to  bring  them  back  to  feeling  again,  just 
to  starve!" 

"Nevermind.  You  put  them  in  your  bosom.  I've  got 
an  idea.  •  It's  worth  trying.  I've  always  felt  that  I  was  go- 
ing to  have  the  first  brood  of  these  birds,  and  have  it  I 
will.  Now,  you  see  if  I  don't.  These  villainous  vagabonds 

6 


82  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIRDS. 

of  boys  have  tried  to  baffle  me,  as  I  feared  they  would — but 
IVe  set  my  heart  on  this,  and  do  not  mean  to  be  baffled !" 

"  Well,  brother,  I  do  hope  you  may  succeed,  but  how 
could  they  have  come  here  on  this  piece  of  carpet — do  you 
think?" 

"  Why,  I  expect  one  of  those  youngsters  who  saw  me 
looking  at  the  nest  the  morning  I  found  it,  has  been  here 
and  discovered  it  too,  and  in  his  anxiety  to  secure  the  re- 
wards offered  by  his  sisters,  probably,  and  his  desire  to 
spite  me,  he  has  only  been  content  to  wait  till  they  were  out 
of  the  egg,  when  he  has  carried  them  off  to  his  sister,  and 
claimed  his  ginger-bread.  She  has  had  compassion  enough 
to  make  him  take  them  back,  and  the  stupid  Oaf,  having  de- 
stroyed the  nest,  has  left  them  here  in  this  characteristic 
fashion." 

We  afterwards  heard  that  this  was  just  how  it  had  occur- 
red. The  little  things  being  deposited  in  their  soft,  white 
nest,  I  mounted,  and  we  returned  immediately  home.  My 
sister  was  immensely  inquisitive  to  know  what  my  new  idea 
might  be,  but  partly  to  tease  her  for  her  doubts,  and  partly 
because  I  was  by  no  means  sure  of  my  own  success,  and  re- 
membered the  lesson  about  arrogance  I  had  lately  received, 
I  would  give  her  no  satisfaction  beyond  saying  that  I  was 
going  to  try  a  spell  that  a  fairy  in  the  form  of  a  little  bird  had 
taught  me,  by  which  I  could  make  any  birds  I  chose,  that 
had  nests,  take  care  of  such  little  orphans  as  these.  She  was 
incredulous — but  my  only  answer  was — 

"You  shall  see!" 

"I  suppose  I  shall,  if  it  happens  ;  but  is  it  not  cruel — too 
cruel,  for  you. to  be  making  foolish  experiments  upon  the 
lives  of  these  little  things.  I  can  feel  them  moving  now." 

"  What  ?  would  you  have  me  kill  them  while  there  is  a 
a  hope  ?» 

"  You  should  have  let  them  die  while  they  were  insensible 
to  pain.  Now  they've  got  to  get  over  it  all  again,  and  worse 
too,  for  now  they'll  die  of  hunger  I" 


BOYHOOD  AND   BIRDS.  83 

"  Never  mind,  dear ;  let  us  try  the  fairy's  spell — I  have 
faith  in  it." 

"  Do  tell  me  what  it  is  you  are  going  to  do.  Birds  will 
only  feed  their  own  young  ones,  and  they  have  enough  to 
do  to  attend  to  them.  What  can  your  fairy  do,  unless  she 
takes  care  of  them  herself?" 

I  laughed,  and  making  a  low  bow  of  mock  courtesy,  ex- 
claimed— 

"Why,  how  could  it  be  surprising  if  she  did?  Has  not 
their  new  life  commenced  already  in  the  bosom  of  one  fairy  ? 
At  least  would  not  Mr.  A.  B.  C. — what  letter  is  it? — say  so?" 

"  Pshaw !  Do,  brother,  hush  this  nonsense,  and  tell  me 
what  you  mean  to  do  ?" 

"  You  shall  see !     Come,  jump  down." 

We  were  at  home,  and  we  passed  hurriedly  into  the  garden. 
I  called  a  little  brother  to  join  us,  in  a  moment  we  were  all 
three  standing  beneath  the  eaves  of  the  summer-house. 
There  was  a  small  hole  in  the  cornice  of  the  eave,  and  I  knew 
that  in  this  a  pair  of  blue  birds  had  nested,  and  supposed 
that  they  must  be  just  about  hatched  now.  My  sister  stood 
watching  my  proceedings  with  great  anxiety,  for  they  were 
entirely  mysterious  to  her.  She  saw  me  take  my  little 
brother  aside,  and  whisper  my  directions  to  him ;  then  the 
little  fellow  prepare  to  climb  up  the  columns  of  the  summer- 
house,  and  with  my  assistance  reach  the  cornice.  His  little 
hand  was  inserted  into  the  hole,  and  with  the  greatest  care 
not  to  touch  either  the  sides  of  the  hole  or  the  nest  within, 
he  daintily  plucks  out  the  young  ones,  one  by  one,  and  hands 
them  down  to  me.  They  are  the  same  age  with  the  mock- 
ing birds,  but  smaller. 

"  Now,  Sis,  give  me  those  little  ones;  and  hurry,  dear,  for 
I  am  afraid  the  old  ones,  who  have  gone  out  for  food,  will 
come  back." 

She  is  so  flurried  she  does  not  realize  what  I  am  about  to 
do,  but  hastily  places  the  young  birds,  now  warm  and  fully 
alive,  in  my  hand.  They  are  reached  to  my  brother. 


84  WILD  SCENES   AND   SONG-BIRDS. 

"Drop  them  in  quick,  quick!  and  come  down.  Jump, 
I'll  catch  you!" 

Down  he  comes,  and  then  after  my  whispering  something 
more  to  him,  he  snatched  the  young  blue  birds  from  my 
hand,  and  ran  off  among  the  shrubbery.  At  this  moment 
we  heard  the  sweet,  clear  warble  of  the  blue  birds,  and  I 
drew  my  sister  a  short  distance  away,  where,  from  behind  a 
tall  rose  bush,  we  oould  watch  the  proceedings  of  the  old 
birds. 

"What  does  all  this  mean,  brother? — what  do  you  ex- 
pect?" she  asked,  in  a  low,  puzzled  voice,  for  she  did  not 
know  that  the  young  blue  birds  had  been  taken  out — so 
dexterously  had  we  managed,  and  only  understood  that  her 
charge  had  been  transferred  to  the  nest. 

"  Brother,  you  surely  can't  expect  that  little  blue  bird  to 
take  care  of  eight  young  ones — your  fairy  will  have  to  help, 
sure  enough !" 

"  Hush !  hush !"  said  I,  all  eagerness,  for  with  an  insect  in 
its  mouth,  one  of  the  old  birds,  twitting  merrily,  had  alight- 
ed near  the  hole,  and  without  hesitation  glided  in,  and  in  a 
moment  or  two  came  forth  again,  without  seeming  to  have 
observed  that  there  was  anything  wrong.  My  heart  beat 
more  freely,  for  I  saw  that  the  insect  had  been  left  behind, 
clearly,  in  the  throat  of  one  of  the  intruders — for  the  bird 
plumed  himself  gaily  outside,  as  if  happy  in  having  perform- 
ed a  pleasant  duty.  But  this  was  the  male  bird,  and  it  was 
the  arriving  of  the  female  that  I  knew  was  most  to  be  dread- 
ed— for  if  the  sharp  instinct  of  the  mother  did  not  detect  the 
fraud  I  felt  that  it  would  succeed. 

In  my  elation  at  my  success  so  far  I  had  explained  my  ob- 
ject to  my  sister,  who,  as  she  did  not  understand  about  the 
making  way  with  the  young  blue  birds,  was  now  infinitely 
delighted  at  the  probable  success  of  the  scheme,  and  I  could 
scarcely  keep  within  bounds  her  dancing  impatience  to 
see  what  the  mother  would  do — hear  what  the  mother 
would  say  I  Here  she  comes  ! — and  in  a  business-like  and 


BOYHOOD   AND   BIRDS.  85 

straightforward  way,  glided  directly  into  the  hole.  We  held 
onr  breaths  and  stood  on  tiptoe.  Out  she  darts  with  a  low 
cry — still  holding  the  insect  in  her  mouth.  Our  hearts  sunk 
— she  has  discovered  all  and  refuses  to  adopt  the  strangers  ! 
She  flew  to  her  mate  and  seemed  to  communicate  some  sad 
intelligence  to  him.  He  was  busily  engaged  in  trimming 
his  feathers  and  merely  straightened  himself  up  for  amoment, 
and  then  with  an  air  of  the  coolest  indifference  proceeded 
with  his  occupation.  The  poor  female  seemed  to  be  sadly 
distressed  and  puzzled  ;  she  flew  around  the  nest  uttering  a 
low,  mournful  cry — then  returned  to  her  philosophical  mate 
for  sympathy,  which  he  seemed  to  be  too  busy  with  his 
feathers  to  spare  just  now.  Then  she  would  dart  into  the 
hole — stay  a  moment,  and  out  again  with  the  insect  still  in 
her  mouth.  Then  she  would  circle  round  and  round  on  the 
wing  as  if  searching  for  the  cause  of  the  disturbance,  the  na- 
ture of  which  she  evidently  did  not  clearly  understand.  So 
she  continued  to  act  until  the  male  having  arranged  his  feath- 
ers to  his  liking  flew  off,  with  a  pleasant  call  to  her,  in  search 
of  more  food.  This  seemed  to  decide  her  uncertainty,  for, 
darting  now  into  the  nest,  she  immediately  fed  the  worm  to 
one  of  those  lusty  young  fellows  that  had  grown  so  won- 
derfully since  she  last  went  out,  and  then  came  forth  chirping 
and  apparently  reconciled  and  followed  her  mate. 

"  There  !  it  succeeds  !  it  succeeds  !  They  are  safe  now — 
these  birds  are  more  industrious  than  the  mocking  birds,  and 
will  feed  them  better  ! — 'good  !  good  !" 

"  Your  fairy  spell  has  succeeded,  brother,  sure  enough  !" 
and  she  clapped  her  hands  and  danced  for  joy ;  and  I  am  not 
sure  that  I  did  not  join  her  most  obstreperously,  for  I  never 
was  more  delighted  in  my  life  at  the  success  of  any  little 
scheme. 

I  knew  the  birds  were  safe  if  the  female  ever  fed  them 
once.  So  it  proved  ;  for  never  did  I  see  little  fellows  grow 
with  greater  lustihood  than  they.  Daily  we  watched  them  ; 
and  in  ten  days  or  two  weeks  were  greatly  amused  to  see  the 


86  WILD   SCENES  AND  SONG-BIRDS. 

industrious  old  birds  perseveringly  laboring  to  fill  gaping 
throats  that  were  nearly  large  enough  to  swallow  them  bodily 
whole.  I  now  narrowed  the  hole  with  wire  so  that  the  blue 
birds  could  get  in  and  the  mocking  birds  could  not  get  out, 
for  they  were  quite  double  the  size  of  their  foster  parents. 

When  they  were  full  fledged  we  took  them  to  the  house 
and  placed  them  in  an  aviary  I  had  prepared  for  them  in  a 
recess  which  contained  a  large  window  and  looked  out  upon 
the  gardens.  In  two  days  I  found  to  my  great  astonishment 
the  old  blue  birds  endeavoring  to  feed  them  through  the 
wires.  They  had  found  them  out,  the  faithful  creatures,  and 
not  content  with  having  already  spent  double  the  amount  of 
labor  upon  them  that  they  would  have  bestowed  upon  their 
own  offspring,  they  followed  them  up  with  their  unweary- 
ing solicitude. 

I  was  greatly  shocked  at  first  to  observe  the  cool  indiffer- 
ence with  which  the  young  aristocrats  of  song  surveyed  their 
humble  foster  parents.  After  awhile  it  came — in  spite  of  the 
shameful  ingratitude  it  exhibited — to  be  a  constant  scource 
of  merriment  with  us  to  watch  the  lordly  and  impudent  non- 
chalance with  which  they  would  turn  their  heads  to  one 
side  and  look  down  at  the  poor  blue  birds — fluttering  against 
the  bars  with  tender  cries  to  attract  their  notice — with  an 
expression  which  seemed  as  plainly  as  could  be  to  say,  "  Who 
are  you,  pray  ? — get  away  you  common  fellows  I" 

A  fine  pair  of  old  mocking  birds  found  them,  too,  but 
when  they  came,  our  gentry  behaved  very  differently,  and 
seemed  crazy  to  get  out.  They  became  very  tame,  and  I 
finally  fulfilled  my  vow  of  turning  them  loose,  and  for  a  long 
time  they  were  so  tame  that  they  would  take  food  from  our 
hands  anywhere.  They  lived  on  the  place,  and  we  felt  our- 
selves for  years  afterwards  plentifully — aye,  bounteously  re- 
warded for  our  anxiety  on  account  of  the  little  outcasts,  by 
the  glorious  songs  they  sang  for  us  the  summer  nights  to 
dream  by.  Thus  it  was  my  fair  sister  helped  me  out  of  the 
scrape  with  my  young  mocking  birds ! 


BOYHOOD  AND   BIRDS.  87 

In  conclusion  I  will  present  the  reader  with  some  things 
that  have  been  said  in  regard  to  this  extraordinary  bird  by 
Wilson,  which  may  be  of  some  consequence  to  those  who 
may  regard  its  value  as  a  cage-bird. 

"  As  it  is  of  some  consequence  to  be  able  to  distinguish  a 
young  male  bird  from  a  female,  the  following  marks  may  be 
attended  to ;  by  which  some  pretend  to  be  able  to  distin- 
guish them  in  less  than  a  week  after  they  are  hatched.  These 
are,  the  breadth  and  purity  of  the  white  on  the  wings,  for 
that  on  the  tail  is  not  much  to  be  depended  on.  This  white, 
on  a  full-grown  male  bird,  spreads  over  the  whole  nine  pri- 
maries, down  to,  and  considerably  below,  their  coverts,  which 
are  also  white,  sometimes  slightly  tipped  with  brown.  The 
white  of  the  primaries  also  extends  equally  far  on  both  vans 
of  the  feathers.  In  the  female,  the  white  is  less  pure,  spreads 
over  only  seven  or  eight  of  the  primaries,  does  not  descend 
so  far,  and  extends  considerably  farther  down  on  the  broad, 
than  on  the  narrow  side  of  the  feathers.  The  black  is  also 
more  of  a  brownish  cast. 

"  The  young  birds,  if  intended  for  the  cage,  ought  not  to 
be  left  till  they  are  nearly  ready  to  fly  ;  but  should  be  taken 
rather  young,  than  otherwise ;  and  may  be  fed,  every  hall 
hour,  with  milk,  thickened  with  Indian  meal ;  mixing  occa- 
sionally with  it  a  little  fresh  meat,  cut  or  minced  very  fine. 
After  they  begin  to  eat  of  their  own  accord,  they  ought  still 
to  be  fed  by  hand,  though  at  longer  intervals,  and  a  few 
cherries,  strawberries,  &c.,  now  and  then  thrown  in  to  them. 
The  same  sort  of  food,  adding  grasshoppers  and  fruit,  parti- 
cularly the  various  kinds  of  berries  in  which  they  delight ; 
and  plenty  of  clean,  fine  gravel,  is  found  very  proper  for  them 
after  they  are  grown  up.  Should  the  bird  at  any  time  ap- 
pear sick  or  dejected,  a  few  spiders  thrown  in  to  him  will 
generally  remove  these  symptoms  of  disease." 

This  remark  I  have  found  to  be  amply  verified  in  my  own 
experience.  Indeed,  I  have  observed  that  all  the  Turdinss 
are  greatly  benefited  while  confined  in  cages,  by  an  occa- 


WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIKDS. 

sional  relish  of  the  common  house  spider.  This  insect  seems 
to  act  in  some  way  medicinally  upon  many  varieties  of  birds, 
and  even  the  finches  are  occasionally  benefited  by  them.  Of 
the  song  and  peculiar  habits  of  the  mocking  bird  Wilson 


"  In  measure  and  accent,  he  faithfully  follows  his  origin- 
als. In  force  and  sweetness  of  expression  he  greatly  im- 
proves upon  them.  In  his  native  groves,  mounted  on  the 
top  of  a  tall  bush,  or  half-grown  tree,  in  the  dawn  of  dewy 
morning,  while  the  woods  are  already  vocal  with  a  multitude 
of  warblers,  his  admirable  song  rises  pre-eminent.  Over 
every  other  competitor  the  ear  can  listen  to  his  music  alone, 
to  which  that  of  all  others  seems  a  mere  accompaniment. 
Neither  is  this  strain  altogether  imitative.  His  own  native 
notes,  which  are  easily  distinguishable  by  such  as  are  well 
acquainted  with  those  of  our  various  song-birds,  are  bold 
and  full,  and  varied  seemingly  beyond  all  limits.  They  con- 
sist of  short  expressions  of  two,  three,  or,  at  the  most,  five 
or  six  syllables  ;  generally  interspersed  with  intonations,  and 
all  of  them  uttered  with  great  emphasis  and  rapidity  ;  and 
continued  with  undiminished  ardor  for  half  an  hour,  or  an 
hour,  at  a  time.  His  expanded  wings  and  tail,  glistening 
with  white,  and  the  buoyant  gaiety  of  his  action,  arresting 
the  eye,  as  his  song  most  irresistibly  does  the  ear,  he  sweeps 
round  with  enthusiastic  ecstasy — he  mounts  and  descends  as 
his  song  swells  or  dies  away ;  and  as  my  friend  Mr.  Bartram 
has  beautifully  expressed  it,  'He  bounds  aloft  with  the 
celerity  of  an  arrow,  as  if  to  recover  or  recall  his  very  soul, 
expired  in  the  last  elevated  strain.'  While  thus  exerting 
himself,  a  bystander  destitute  of  sight  would  suppose  that 
the  whole  feathered  tribe  had  assembled  together,  on  a  trial 
of  skill ;  each  striving  to  produce  his  utmost  effect ;  so  per- 
fect are  his  imitations.  He  many  times  deceives  the  sports- 
man, and  sends  him  in  search  of  birds  that  perhaps  are  not 
within  miles  of  him ;  but  whose  notes 'he  exactly  imitates. 
Even  birds  themselves  are  frequently  imposed  on  by  this 


BOYHOOD  AND  BIEDS.  89 

admiral,  and  are  decoyed  by  the  fancied  calls  of  their  mates  ; 
or  dive,  with  precipitation,  into  the  depths  of  thickets,  at  the 
scream  of  what  they  suppose  to  be  the  sparrow-hawk." 

It  is  one  of  the  most  striking  of  the  exulting  attitudes  of 
this  bird  described  by  Bartram  and  Wilson  above,  that  my 
wife  has  selected  for  her  figure  of  the  Southern  variety — 
for  upon  the  question  of  the  existence  of  the  two  varieties, 
my  mind  has  long  been  distinctly  made  up  in  spite  of  the 
opinion  expressed  by  Mr.  Wilson,  and  coincided  in  by  Au- 
dubon. 

Wilson  says  upon  this  subject — 

"  Many  people  are  of  opinion  that  there  are  two  sorts,  the 
large  and  the  small  mocking  bird  ;  but  after  examining  great 
numbers  of  these  birds  in  various  regions  of  the  United 
States,  I  am  satisfied  that  this  variation  of  size  is  merely  ac- 
cidental." 

As  the  purpose  of  this  volume  is  not  to  include  technical 
controversies,  I  shall  waive  any  further  discussion  of  this 
question  for  the  present — merely  giving  it  as  my  decided 
opinion,  that  what  I  have  named  the  Kentucky  mocking  bird 
is  a  distinct  variety  from  what  I  have  called  the  Southern 
mocking  bird. 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE   SHRIKE   OR  BUTCHER  BIRD. 

IT  is  worth  while  to  say  something  more  in  detail  about 
this  same  butcher  bird  before  we  dismiss  him.  The  people 
who  always  have  a  reason  for  a  name,  have  very  properly 
called  the  little  wretch  butcher,  for  butcher  he  is  in  the  very 
worst  sense  of  the  term ! 

I  specially  wish  to  attract  attention  to  some  curious  coin- 
cidences between  the  apparent  place  of  this  bird  on  the  scale 
of  animal  life,  and — that  last  of  all  creatures  with  which  it 
would  seem  possible  at  first  view  to  institute  a  comparison 
at  all — I  mean  the  humming  bird.  Now  do  not  be  startled 
— but  hear  what  I  have  to  say  !  The  humming  bird  is  known 
as  the  apparent  link  between  insects  and  birds.  There  is  a 
moth  so  closely  resembling  it,  which  is  found  all  the  way 
South  from  Pennsylvania — that  it  requires  an  acute  observer 
to  distinguish  one  from  the  other  at  the  distance  of  a  few 
feet  when  they  are  feeding  from  the  flowers,  which  they  do 
in  the  same  way. 

Now  the  shrike  is  quite  as  evidently  the  connecting  link 
between  the  raptores  or  hawks,  and  song-birds,  as  the  hum- 
ming bird  is  the  link  between  the  song-birds  and  insects ! 
The  shrike  resembles  the  hawk  in  its  thirst  for  carnage  and 
manner  of  stooping  upon  its  prey,  except  that,  as  it  has  not 
strong  claws  like  the  hawk,  it  strikes  with  its  strong  beak. 
It  resembles  the  mocking  bird  so  closely  in  plumage,  that 
older  naturalists  than  I  was  at  sixteen,  have  frequently  con- 


THE  SHRIKE,    OR  BUTCHER  BIRD.  91 

founded  the  habits  of  the  two.  Its  general  color  is  the 
same — 'they  both  have  the  white  bar  across  the  wings,  and 
the  difference  consists  mainly  in  the  outline  of  the  form — 
which  in  the  shrike  expresses  compactness  and  strength,  with 
short  wings  and  tail,  while  in  the  mocking  bird  it  expresses 
airiness,  with  graceful  length  and  elegance  of  plumage — but 
the  difference  cannot  be  easily  distinguished  when  the  shrike 
is  on  the  wing.  There  is  another  point  of  resemblance  to 
the  mocking  bird,  which  is  still  more  remarkable.  Audubon 
asserts  roundly,  that  the  shrike  can  imitate  the  cries  of  birds, 
such  as  sparrows  and  other  little  people,  so  perfectly,  that 
not  only  are  we  deceived,  but  the  sparrows  themselves, 
thinking  it  is  one  of  their  own  kith  and  kin  screaming  in  the 
claws  of  the  hawk,  flock  thither  in  sympathetic  terror,  from 
their  coverts,  when  the  cunning  mocker  pounces  upon  one 
of  them  sure  enough. 

Audubon  in  his  Biography  of  Birds,  says  : 
"  This  valiant  little  warrior  possesses  the  faculty  of  imi- 
tating the  notes  of  other  birds,  especially  such  as  are  indica- 
tive of  pain.  Thus  it  will  often  mimic  the  cries  of  sparrows 
and  other  small  birds,  so  as  to  make  you  believe  you  hear 
them  screaming  in  the  claws  of  a  hawk  ;  and  I  strongly  sus- 
pect this  is  done  for  the  purpose  of  inducing  others  to  come 
out  from  their  coverts  to  the  rescue  of  their  suffering  breth- 
ren. On  several  occasions  I  have  seen  it  in  the  act  of 
screaming  in  this  manner,  when  it  would  suddenly  dart  from 
its  perch  into  a  thicket,  from  which  there  would  immediately 
issue  the  real  cries  of  a  bird  on  which  it  had  seized.  On  the 
banks  of  the  Mississippi,  I  saw  one  which  for  several  days  in 
succession  had  regularly  taken  its  stand  on  the  top  of  a  tall 
tree,  where  it  from  time  to  time  imitated  the  cries  of  the 
swamp  and  song-sparrows,  and  shortly  afterwards  would 
pitch  clown  like  a  hawk,  with  its  wings  close  to  its  body, 
seldom  failing  to  obtain  the  object  of  its  pursuit,  which  it 
would  sometimes  follow  even  through  the  briars  aud  bram- 
bles among  which  it  had  sought  refuge.  When  unable  to 


92  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIRDS. 

secure  its  prey,  it  would  reascend  to  its  perch,  and  emit  loud 
and  discordant  notes  of  anger.  Whenever  I  could  see  it 
strike  its  victim,  it  appeared  to  alight  on  its  back  and  in- 
stantly strike  its  head,  which  on  such  occasions  I  have  sev- 
eral times  found  torn  open.  If  not  disturbed,  the  shrike 
would  then  tear  up  the  body,  and  swallow  in  large  pieces, 
not  well  cleaned  of  the  feathers,  every  part  excepting  the 
wings.  It  now  and  then  pursues  birds  that  are  on  the  wing 
to  a  considerable  distance.  Thus,  I  saw  one  follow  a  turtle 
dove,  which,  on  being  nearly  caught,  pitched  on  the  ground, 
when  its  skull  was  bruised  in  a  moment ;  but  the  next  in- 
stant both  birds  were  in  my  possession." 

Now  is  not  this  a  curious  fact  ? — here  we  have  the  shrike 
possessing  not  only  the  plumage  of  the  mocking  bird,  but 
even  the  weird  power  of  imitation,  and  what  makes  the  co- 
incidence even  yet  more  striking,  it  is  a  well-known  and 
standing  amusement  of  the  mocking  bird  to  call  together  a 
great  number  of  small  birds  by  some  such  trick  as  this,  and 
then  frighten  them  nearly  to  death  by  shrieking  like  the 
hawk  in  their  midst.  I  have  watched  this  droll  manoeuvre 
very  many  times.  We  shall  show  that  the  humming  bird 
only  eats  one  insect — the  spider — but  lives  principally  upon 
nectar  of  flowers,  the  food  of  that  moth,  which  approaches  it 
most  nearly  in  the  order  of  being  it  has  left  behind.  It  can- 
not live  long  upon  the  nectar  alone,  but  its  bird-nature  re- 
quires the  animal  juices  of  the  spider  to  sustain  it.  Now  this 
butcher  lives  principally  upon  the  same  food  as  the  mocking 
bird,  namely,  grasshoppers,  crickets,  beetles,  and  small  rep- 
tiles, as  it  is  a  little  stronger  than  the  mocking  bird  ;  but  it 
has  to  take  even  them  cooked,  for  we  have  seen  that  it  regu- 
larly spits  its  lizards  and  other  larger  prey,  to  be  basted  by 
the  sun  on  the  top  of  a  thorn  tree  !  And  I  have  time  and 
again  witnessed  the  fact  that  it  comes  back  regularly  to  feed 
upon  these  extraordinary  deposits  in  preference  to  the  fresh 
prey  which  it  brings  untorn  to  be  basted  in  the  same  way  by 
the  sun. 


OR  BUTCHER  BIRD.  93 

1 1  only  takes  a  lunch  of  a  small  song-bird  occasionally,  as 
the  humming  bird  does  of  the  spider.  It  selects  very  much 
the  same  sort  of  location  for  its  nest  as  the  mocking  birds,  and 
has  much  the  same  haunts  ;  and,  in  a  word,  I  have  no  doubt 
that  these  two  birds  are  regarded  with  more  thorough  dread 
and  detestation  by  the  small  birds  than  all  the  hawks  that  ever 
flew  put  together ;  for  while  the  mocking  bird  beats  them  sing- 
ing until  they  are  ashamed  to  hear  their  own  voices  ;  he  adds 
insult  to  injury  in  frightening  them  out  of  their  wits  by  his  imp- 
ish imitations.  Then  the  shrike  runs  them  in  the  same  way, 
but  it  is  in  bloody  earnest,  so  far  as  he  is  concerned,  so  that  the 
timid  little  creatures  must  be  as  sadly  puzzled  between  the 
playful  elf  and  its  ghost-like  image,  as  I  was  with  my  new 
variety.  There  is  another  droll  coincidence.  The  shrike  is 
not  more  the  terror  of  the  small  birds,  than  the  humming 
bird  is  of  the  large  ones.  It  is  the  most  formidable  enemy 
the  hawks  and  eagles  have,  and  almost  drives  them  mad 
with  its  swift  and  torturing  strokes  at  their  eyes.  I  have 
seen  many  an  eagle  flying  as  if  possessed,  with  loud  screams 
of  agony,  while  a  pair  of  humming  birds,  coolly  resting  on 
the  top  of  its  imperial  crown,  were  making  the  feathers  fly 
therefrom  in  a  long  trail  upon  the  air. 

"We  have  in  America  two  varieties  of  the  shrike.  The 
one  exhibited  in  our  plate  is  the  loggerhead  shrike,  which  is 
in  the  act  of  stooping  upon  a  painted  finch.  The  habitation 
of  this  shrike  is  principally  in  the  southern  and  middle  re- 
gions of  the  United  States,  while  the  great  American  shrike 
frequents  from  the  middle  States  northward  to  the  Canadas. 
So  audacious  is  this  latter  bird,  and  such  the  power  of  its  neck 
and  shoulders,  that  I  saw  one  that  had  just  been  captured  in  a 
gentleman's  parlor  in  Boston,  during  a  late  hard  winter,  that 
had  shattered  the  stout  plate-glass  of  the  window-pane  in  dash- 
ing at  a  canary  bird  which  it  had  perceived,  caged,  inside. 
The  little  captive  was  slain  by  the  savage  aggressor  before 
rescue  was  possible  on  the  part  of  those  who  witnessed  the 
scene. 


94  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIRDS. 

Wilson  and  Audubon  both  give  some  curious  stories  in 
regard  to  the  habits  of  this  bird. 

Wilson  says  in  reference  to  the  great  American  Shrike — 

"  When  we  compare  the  beak  of  this  species  with  his  legs 
and  claws,  they  appear  to  belong  to  two  very  different  orders 
of  birds  ;  the  former  approaching  in  its  conformation  to  that 
of  the  accipitrine ;  the  latter  to  those  of  the  pies ;  and,  in- 
deed, in  his  food  and  manners,  he  is  assimilated  to  both.  For 
though  man  has  arranged  and  subdivided  this  numerous  class 
of  animals  into  separate  tribes  and  families,  yet  nature  has 
united  these  to  each  other  by  such  nice  gradations,  and  so 
intimately,  that  it  is  hardly  possible  to  determine  where  one 
tribe  ends,  or  the  succeeding  one  commences.  We  therefore 
find  several  eminent  naturalists  classing  this  genus  of  birds 
with  the  accipitrine,  others  with  the  pies.  Like  the  former, 
he  preys  occasionally  on  other  birds  ;  and  like  the  latter,  on 
insects,  particularly  grasshoppers,  which  I  believe  to  be  his 
principal  food :  having  at  almost  at  all  times,  even  in  winter, 
found  them  in  his  stomach.  In  the  month  of  December,  and 
while  the  country  was  deeply  covered  with  snow,  I  shot  one 
of  these  birds  near  the  head  waters  of  the  Mohawk  river,  in 
the  State  of  New  York,  the  stomach  of  which  was  entirely 
filled  with  large  black  spiders.  He  was  of  much  purer  white, 
above,  than  any  I  have  since  met  with ;  though  evidently 
of  the  same  species  with  the  present ;  and  I  think  it  probable 
that  the  males  become  lighter  colored  as  they  advance  in 
age,  till  the  minute  tranverse  lines  of  brown  on  the  lower 
parts  almost  disappear. 

In  his  manners  he  has  more  resemblance  to  the  pies  than 
to  birds  of  prey,  particularly  in  the  habit  of  carrying  off  his 
surplus  food,  as  if  to  hoard  it  for  future  exigencies ;  with  this 
difference,  that  crows,  jays,  magpies,  &c.,  conceal  theirs  at 
random,  in  holes  and  crevices,  where,  perhaps,  it  is  forgotten, 
or  never  again  found,  while  the  butcher  bird  sticks  his  on 
thorns  and  bushes,  where  it  shrivels  in  the  sun,  and  soon  be- 
comes equally  useless  to  the  hoarder.  Both  retain  the  same 


THE  SHRIKE,   OR  BUTCHER  BIRD.  95 

habits  in  a  state  of  confinement  whatever  the  food  may  be 
that  is  presented  to  them. 

"  This  habit  of  the  shrike  of  seizing  and  impaling  grass- 
hoppers and  other  insects  on  thorns,  has  given  rise  to  an 
opinion,  that  he  places  these  carcasses  there  by  way  of  baits, 
to  allure  small  birds  to  them,  while  he  himself  lies  in  ambush 
to  surprise  and  destroy  them.  In  this,  however,  they  appear 
to  allow  him  a  greater  portion  of  reason  and  contrivance 
than  he  seems  entitled  to,  or  than  other  circumstances  will 
altogether  warrant ;  for  we  find  that  he  not  only  serves  grass- 
hoppers in  this  manner,  but  even  small  birds  themselves,  as 
those  have  assured  me  who  have  kept  them  in  cages  in  this 
country,  and  amused  themselves  with  their  manoeuvres.  If 
so,  we  might  as  well  suppose  the  farmer  to  be  inviting  crows 
to  his  corn  when  he  hangs  up  their  carcasses  around  it,  as 
the  butcher  bird  to  be  decoying  small  birds  by  a  display  of 
the  dead  bodies  of  their  comrades !" 

Wilson  also  says  in  speaking  of  this  bird  generally — 

"  The  character  of  the  butcher  bird  is  entitled  to  no  com- 
mon degree  of  respect.  His  activity  is  visible  in  all  his  mo- 
tions ;  his  courage  and  intrepidity  beyond  every  other  bird 
of  his  size  (one  of  his  own  tribe  only  excepted,  L.  tyrannus, 
or  king-bird ;)  and  in  affection  for  his  young,  he  is  surpassed 
by  no  other.  He  associates  with  them  in  the  latter  part  of 
summer,  the  whole  family  hunting  in  company.  He  attacks 
the  largest  hawk  or  eagle  in  their  defence,  with  a  resolution 
truly  astonishing :  so  that  all  of  them  respect  them,  and  on 
every  occasion  decline  the  contest.  As  the  snows  of  winter 
approach,  he  descends  from  the  mountainous  forests,  and 
from  the  regions  of  the  north,  to  the  more  cultivated  parts 
of  the  country,  hovering  about  our  hedgerows,  orchards  and 
meadows,  and  disappears  again  early  in  April." 

It  loves  best,  and  is  most  usually  found  to  frequent  the 
wild,  rocky  and  somewhat  sterile  commons  of  waste  land, 
which  are  the  favorite  localities  of  its  especial  prey,  different 
varieties  of  the  lizard,  grasshopper,  and  smaller  finches.  It 


96  WILD   SCENES  AND  SONG-BIRDS. 

has  from  this  fact  gained  for  itself  the  very  general  and  pop- 
ular sobriquet  of  "  rock  robin"  throughout  the  South,  "West 
and  North. 

Wilson  also  remarks  of  the  extent  of  the  peregrinations  of 
this  species  that,  "In  the  Arctic  Zoology,  we  are  told  that 
this  species  is  frequent  in  Eussia,  but  does  not  extend  to 
Siberia ;  yet  one  was  taken  within  Bhering's  Straits,  on  the 
Asiatic  side,  in  lat.  66° ;  and  the  species  probably  extends 
over  the  whole  continent  of  North  America,  from  the  West- 
ern Ocean.  Mr.  Bell,  while  on  his  travels  through  Kussia, 
had  one  of  these  birds  given  him,  which  he  kept  in  a  room, 
having  fixed  up  a  sharpened  stick  for  him  in  the  wall ;  and 
on  turning  small  birds  loose  into  the  room,  the  butcher  bird 
instantly  caught  them  by  the  throat  in  such  a  manner  as  soon 
to  suffocate  them,  and  then  stuck  them  on  the  stick,  pulling 
them  on  with  bill  and  claws ;  and  so  served  as  many  as  were 
turned  loose,  one  after  another,  on  the  same  stick." 

In  relation  to  the  habits  of  the  two  species  I  would  beg  to 
differ  from  the  absolute  adjurations  on  the  part  of  both  Au- 
dubon  and  Wilson  upon  this  subject,  as  I  have  seen  both 
varieties  in  Kentucky  and  on  the  Mississippi,  far  above  the 
mouth  of  the  Ohio,  though  we  will  give  in  conclusion  what 
Wilson  says  in  reference  to  the  loggerhead — 

"  This  species  has  a  considerable  resemblance  to  the  great 
American  shrike.  It  differs,  however, .  from  that  bird,  in 
size,  being  a  full  inch  shorter ;  and  in  color,  being  much 
darker  on  the  upper  parts ;  and  in  having  the  frontlet  black. 
It  also  inhabits  the  warmer  parts  of  the  United  States ;  while 
the  great  American  shrike  is  chiefly  confined  to  the  northern 
regions,  and  seldom  extends  to  the  South  of  Virginia. 

"  This  species  inhabits  the  rice  plantations  of  Carolina  and 
Georgia,  where  it  is  protected  for  its  usefulness  in  destroying 
mice.  It  sits,  for  hours  together,  on  the  fence,  beside  the 
stacks  of  rice,  watching  like  a  cat ;  and  as  soon  as  it  perceives 
a  mouse,  darts  on  it  like  a  hawk.  It  also  feeds  on  crickets 
and  grasshoppers.  Its  note,  in  March,  resembles  the  clear 


THE  SHKIKE,    OR  BUTCHER  BIKD.  97 

creaking  of  a  sign-board  in  windy  weather,  It  builds  its 
nest,  as  I  was  informed,  generally  in  a  detached  bush,  much 
like  that  of  the  mocking  bird ;  but  as  the  spring  was  not 
then  sufficiently  advanced,  I  had  no  opportunity  of  seeing  its 
eggs.  It  is  generally  known  by  the  name  of  the  loggerhead." 


CHAPTER   IV. 

MY    HUMMING    BIRDS. 

As  a  child,  I  always  had  a  passion  for  the  humming  bird. 
It  ever  caused  a  thrill  of  delight  when  one  of  these  glittering 
creatures,  with  its  soft  hum  of  flight,  came  out  of  repose  all 
suddenly — hanging,  a  sapphire  stilled  upon  the  air — for  here 
no  wings  are  seen, — as,  like  a  quick,  bright  thought,  it  darts, 
is  still,  and  then  away  I 

The  mystery  of  "  whence  it  cometh,  and  whither  it  goeth," 
was  a  lovely  and  exciting  one  to  me.  How  and  where  could 
a  thing  so  delicate  live  in  a  rough,  wintry  world  like  this  ? 
How  could  the  glory  of  its  burnished  plumes  remain  un- 
dimmed,  that  it  thus  shot  forth  arrows  of  light  into  my  eyes, 
while  all  other  things  seemed  slowly  fading  ? 

"Where  could  it  renew  its  splendors  ?  In  what  far  bath 
of  gems  dissolved,  dipping,  come  forth  mailed  in  its  varied 
shine  ?  How  could  those  tiny  wings,  whose  soul-like  motion 
no  mortal  eye  can  follow,  bear  the  frail  sprite  through  beat- 
ing tempests  that  are  hurling  the  albatross,  with  mighty  pin- 
ions, prone  upon  the  wave ;  or  that  dash  the  sea-eagle, 
shrieking,  against  its  eyrie-cliff  ?  How  speeds  it  straight  and 
safe — the  gem-arrow  of  the  elfs  ? 

Could  it  be  that  the  tiny  birds  lived  only  on  the  nectar  of 
flowers  ?  It  seemed,  surely,  the  fitting  food  for  beauty  so 
ethereal.  But,  then,  it  removed  them  so  far  from  things  of 
the  earth,  earthy — their  home  must  surely  be  fairyland,  and 
they  coursers  of  the  wind  for  Ariel  to  "  put  a  girdle  round 


MY  HUMMING  BIRDS.  99 

the  earth,"  if  this  be  so.  But,  if  there  be  no  fairies,  and 
these  be  only  natural  forces  that  propel  it  so,  is  nectar,  or 
ambrosia  even,  food  of  the  substance  that  could  give  the 
steely  toughness  to  those  hair-spring  thews,  whose  sharp 
stroke  cuts  a  resistless  way  through  hurricanes  ? 

These,  and  a  thousand  such  questions,  thronged  upon  me 
in  those  innocent  times,  but  my  most  eager  and  continued 
inquiries  were — How  did  they  come  ?  "Were  they  born  so, 
all  bright  and  ready  ?  Or  did  they  come  like  other  birds  ? 
I  could  find  other  birds'  nests  and  eggs,  and  I  understood 
how  they  came ;  but  I  never  could  find  a  humming  bird's 
nest. 

Nor  could  I  find  any  one  else  who  ever  had  found  one. 
There  were  traditions  that  somebody's  grandfather  had  heard 
a  very  old  man  say,  that  he  had  heard  it  once  upon  a  time, 
from  an  old  witch-woman,  that  to  find  a  humming  bird's 
nest,  was  as  much  a  sign  of  good  luck  as  reaching  the  end 
of  a  rainbow — that  you  were  sure  to  get  a  heap  of  diamonds 
from  it,  instead  of  the  bag  of  gold.  Well,  as  I  was  for  many 
a  year,  until  I  actually  did  stand  with  my  feet  upon  the  end 
of  a  rainbow,  a  devout  believer  in  that  same  bag  of  gold, 
why  should  I  not  also  have  faith  in  that  nest  of  diamonds  ? 

This  may  seem  like  hazarding  assertion  for  fact.  I  pledge 
my  personal  veracity  for  the  truth  of  the  following  simple 
relation  of  an  incident  happening  to  myself.  I  was,  when 
twenty  years  of  age,  passing  on  horseback  from  my  native 
town,  Hopkinsville,  Ky.,  to  a  neighboring  town,  Clarksville, 
Tenn.  When  about  half  way,  I  was  suddenly  overtaken  by 
one  of  those  swift  summer  storms,  peculiar  to  the  South.  I 
was  then  in  the  lane  of  a  very  large  tobacco  plantation,  and 
knowing  that  I  could  obtain  shelter  in  a  country  store  near 
the  end  of  it,  I  urged  my  horse  into  a  run,  and  was  soon 
there.  I  sprang  down  upon  the  low  steps,  and  pushed  my 
way  through  the  crowd  of  farmers  collected  at  the  door — as 
people  instinctively  do,  during  a  thunder  storm,  to  witness 
its  progress.  I  stood  just  within  the  door  sill,  where  I  had 


100  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIRDS. 

obtained  a  footing,  and  held  my  horse's  reign.  The  storm 
was  of  short  duration — when  the  sun  burst  through  the 
vapory  clouds  that  lingered  heavily  yet,  and  a  dozen  voices 
exclaimed,  "  the  rainbow  1  the  rainbow  I" 

I  looked  up — I  never  saw  one  so  brilliant  before — it  daz- 
zled me — I  felt  as  if  it  was  in  my  eyes.  By  this  time  I  had 
stepped  down  from  the  door-sill  to  the  step,  and  naturally 
looking  down  as  I  did  so,  to  my  great  astonishment,  the 
rainbow  laid  along  the  ground  before  me,  crossing  the  road 
to  the  fence — up  the  rails  of  which  it  could  be  distinctly 
traced,  until  it  again  became  visible  up  the  air,  forming  the 
arc  which  dipped  at  the  apparent  horizon — about  a  mile 
beyond  the  field.  I  could  distinctly  trace  that  segment  of 
the  arc — which  seemed  to  lay  along  the  ground,  and  up  the 
fence — on  the  air,  as  it  sprang  directly  from  where  my  feet 
rested. 

It  only  seemed  to  lie  upon  the  ground  from  its  perfect 
transparency.  The  near  limb  made  itself  first  visible  on  the 
points  of  my  boots,  and  then  sprung  out  and  up,  directly 
in  front  of  me — the  upper  rim  of  the  segments  being  within 
a  few  inches  of  my  face. 

I  at  first  thought  that  the  unusual  brilliancy  and  sud- 
denness of  the  appearance,  had  dazzled  my  vision  and 
confused  it,  but  when  I  heard  one  after  another  of  the  old 
farmers  behind  me  exclaiming  to  each  other  at  the  strange- 
ness of  the  thing,  I  turned  and  asked  them  if  they  could  see 
it  on  the  steps,  along  the  road,  and  up  the  fence — all  answer- 
ed in  the  ainrmative,  and  several  remarked  that  they  could 
see  it  on  my  shoes.  I  was  unwilling  to  be  deceived,  and 
called  forward  the  oldest  man  in  the  company,  a  farmer  of 
68,  and  asked  him  if  he  could  see  it.  He  said, 

"  Yes — but  bless  God,  this  is  the  first  time  ever  I  heard 
in  my  born  days,  of  the  end  of  a  rainbow  being  seen,  much 
less  of  a  man  standing  on  it.  And  they  ain't  no  bag  of  gold 
thar  after  all !"  he  ejaculated,  in  a  tone  that  drew  forth  a 
general  laugh. 


MY  HUMMING  BIRDS.  101 

The  company  now  began  to  distinguish  the  arc  upon 
the  air,  and  to  see  that  it  really  did  not  lie  upon  the  ground, 
as  I  had  at  first  supposed  too.  This  was  mentioned  without 
my  hinting  it  to  them  myself.  I  never  was  more  surprised 
in  my  life,  nor  did  I  ever  see  a  company  of  men  more  so 
than  these  fifteen  or  twenty  farmers,  whose  whole  lives  had 
been  spent  in  observing  the  phenomena  of  storms.  No  one 
of  them  had  ever  heard  of  such  a  thing  before,  nor  have  I 
ever  met  with  any  one  who  knew  of  one  similar.  I,  how- 
ever, three  years  after  this,  witnessed  a  somewhat  similar  in- 
cident, in  riding  through  the  valley  of  the  Tennessee  River, 
with  a  friend.  After  one  of  those  sudden  storms  we  saw  a 
vivid  rainbow,  with  its  left  limb  resting  in  a  corn-field,  a 
hundred  yards  distant.  These  are  facts  I  cannot  account 
for,  and  I  leave  them  to  the  learned. 

Faith  I  did  bear,  and  most  zealously  was  it  awakened  from 
the  first  hour  that  my  heart  leaped  to  the  soft  whirr  of  the  deli- 
cate wings  of  the  Hummer,  as  it  dropped  suddenly  upon  some 
early  spring  flower,  perching  with  ha  If- wearied  and  half- 
frightened  look  as  if  just  come  to  the  strange  earth  from 
its  long,  long  flight  towards  the  north.  It  seemed  as  if  it 
had  found  here  the  freshest  footprints  of  the  jubilant  spring, 
and  paused  for  love.  And,  now,  I  would  think,  I  must 
watch,  for  spring  will  hold  them  warm  within  her  bosom 
and  try  to  hide  their  little  nests  away.  Many's  the  hour  I 
have  fruitlessly  spent  in  watching  them  wherever  I  could 
trace  their  flight  about  the  gardens — for,  in  my  simplicity, 
I  supposed  it  impossible  that  they  could  have  their  nests  any- 
where but  amidst  the  flowers — but  this,  along  with  other 
poetical  dreams,  found  the  fact  a  more  practical  and  wiser 
thing. 

Years  passed  away,  leaving  me  still  unwearied,  though  my 
continued  want  of  success  might  have  made  me  what  the 
world- calls  wiser.  In  the  meantime  I  had,  in  poring  over 
the  time-stained  volumes  of  the  famous  old  "  Port-folio" — • 
certainly  the  first,  if  not  the  ablest  of  American  periodicals 


102  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIKDS- 

of  this  class — come  across  a  most  charmingly  told  account 
of  the  entire  domestication  of  a  family  of  humming  birds, 
by  a  gentleman  of  New  England,  who  managed  to  keep 
them  for  two  years  in  his  large  conservatory. 

He  had,  by  the  merest  accident,  discovered  the  nest  in  a 
very  large  and  heavy  woodbine  honeysuckle,  which  hung 
over  the  window  of  his  sitting-room,  and  the  idea  at  once 
occurred  to  him  of  gradually  enticing  the  old  birds  into  the 
room,  which  opened  into  the  conservatory,  and  then  trans 
ferring  thither  the  nest  with  the  young.  The  plan,  after  a 
great  deal  of  patient  dexterity,  succeeded,  and  this  lovely 
little  family  became  his  inmates  and  friends  along  with  the 
flowers.  The  relation  of  this  gentleman  was  sufficiently 
pleasing  to  enchant  me — but  there  was  not  enough  of  the 
naturalist  in  it  to  satisfy  me.  We  had  great  honeysuckles 
too  ;  why  did  they  not  build  there  as  well  ?  Hundreds  of 
times  I  had  searched  their  intricacies  with  patient  zeal,  twig 
by  twig,  tendril  by  tendril ;  and  this  for  years — yet  there 
were  hundreds  around  me  all  day  !  There  was  something 
in  this  I  did  not  understand. 

At  last,  in  the  work  of  a  French  Naturalist  of  note,  M. 
Valliant,  I  found  the  hint,  that  many  of  the  smaller  tropical 
birds,  among  them  the  Hummers,  invariably  built  their  nests, 
where  the  locality  of  feeding  grounds  rendered  it  possible 
for  them  to  make  such  a  selection,  upon  the  pensile  limbs  of 
those  trees  that  hung  far  over  running  water,  as  their  most 
dreaded  enemies,  the  monkeys  and  snakes,  were  both  very 
cautious  of  venturing  out  upon  such  insecure  foothold  to  rob. 
This  hint  I  accordingly  treasured,  and  literally  haunted  the 
brooks,  the  creek  and  river  sides  in  the  spring  months, 
watching  with  the  ceaseless  hope  of  catching  one  of  the  birds 
in  the  act  of  alighting  on  the  nest,  which  I  knew  was  my 
only  chance.  Still  I  found  no  success  for  years ;  but,  I  had 
gained  one  piece  of  information,  namely ; — that  at  eleven 
o'clock,  A.  M.,  and  five,  P.  M.,  if  I  stood  still  for  a  short 
time,  I  would  see  them  go  darting  past,  directly  over  the 


MY  HUMMING   BIRDS.  103 

middle  of  the  channel.  This  might  lead  to  something  or  it 
might  not,  it  was  worth  remembering  at  least. 

Now  came  the  whirl  of  the  youth's  first  ambitious  strug- 
gles for  excellence  and  success  among  his  fellows.  Bird- 
nesting  gave  way  to  Euclid,  and  idle  strollings  through  the 
scented  woods  to  scanning  the  Bucolics.  For  a  long  time 
my  gentle  playmates  of  the  sun  and  flowers  gave  way  to 
black-letter  folios  and  smoky  lamplight.  I  thought  I  had 
almost  forgotten  these  once  beloved  children  of  the  Fret 
Life ;  but  no  sooner  had  I  returned  among  them  with  some 
leisure  on  my  hands,  than  my  old  love  returned — my  old 
passion  broke  forth  once  more  with  a  deeper  and  widening 
enthusiasm.  Every  living  thing  came  to  me  now  with  lives 
that  bore  a  higher  meaning,  gleams  of  which  were  beginning 
to  visit  me. 

It  was  no  longer  as  an  idle  boy  or  a  sportsman  merely, 
that  I  went  forth  into  nature — it  was  as  a  naturalist,  in  earn- 
est for  facts!  The  Principia  had  cured  me  of  romance,  and 
I  was  wild  for  demonstration. 

An  accident,  about  this  time,  attracted  my  attention  to 
humming  birds  in  particular  again.  Entering  the  library 
one  morning,  I  saw,  to  my  delight,  a  humming  bird  flutter- 
ing against  the  upper  part  of  a  window,  the  lower  sash  of 
which  was  raised.  I  advanced  softly,  but  rapidly  as  possi- 
ble, and  let  down  the  sash.  I  had  been  taught  the  necessity 
of  such  caution  long  ago,  by  a  bitter  experience,  for  out  of 
more  than  a  dozen  I  had  attempted  to  catch  in  this  very 
room — to  which  they  were  enticed  by  the  vases  of  flowers 
within — I  had  not  succeeded  in  keeping  one  alive  beyond  a 
moment  or  two  after  I  had  seized  it — for,  if  startled  too  sud- 
denly, ere  there  had  been  time  enough  for  them  to  realize 
the  deception  of  the  glass,  they  invariably  flew  against  it 
with  such  violence  as  to  kill  themselves ; — thus  my  childish 
eagerness  had  always  robbed  me  of  what  I  most  coveted,  al- 
though it  seemed  already  mine. 

This  time,  however,  I  succeeded  in  securing  an  uninjured 


104  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIKDS. 

captive,  which,  to  my  inexpressible  delight,  proved  to  be 
one  of  the  ruby -throated  species — the  most  splendid  and  di- 
minutive that  comes  north  of  Florida.  It  immediately  sug- 
gested itself  to  me  that  a  mixture  of  two  parts  refined  loaf- 
sugar,  with  one  of  fine  honey,  in  ten  of  water,  would  make 
about  the  nearest  approach  to  the  nectar  of  flowers.  "While 
my  sister  ran  to  prepare  it,  I  gradually  opened  my  hand  to 
look  at  my  prisoner,  and  saw  to  my  no  little  amusement  as 
well  as  surprise,  that  it  was  actually  "  playing  possom" — 
feigning  to  be  dead  most  skilfully  1  It  lay  on  my  open  palm 
motionless  for  some  minutes,  during  which  I  watched  it  in 
breathless  curiosity.  I  saw  it  gradually  open  its  bright  little 
eyes  to  peep  whether  the  way  was  clear,  and  then  close  them 
slowly  as  it  caught  my  eye  upon  it;  but,  when  the  manufac- 
tured nectar  came,  and  a  drop  was  touched  gently  to  the 
point  of  its  bill,  it  come  to  life  very  suddenly,  and,  in  a  mo- 
ment, was  on  its  legs,  drinking  with  eager  gusto  of  the  re- 
freshing draught  from  a  silver  tea-spoon.  When  sated  it  re- 
fused to  take  more,  and  sat  perched  with  the  coolest  self- 
composure  on  my  finger,  and  plumed  itself  quite  as  artistic- 
ally as  if  on  its  favorite  spray.  I  was  enchanted  with  the 
bold,  innocent  confidence  with  which  it  turned  up  its  keen, 
black  eye  to  survey  us,  as  much  as  to  say,  "  Well,  good  folk 
— who  are  you  ?" 

Thus,  in  less  than  an  hour,  this  apparently  tameless  rider 
of  the  winds,  was  perched,  pleasantly  chirping  upon  my 
finger,  and  received  its  food  with  edifying  eagerness  from 
my  sister's  hand.  It  seemed  completely  domesticated  from 
the  moment  that  a  taste  of  its  natural  food  reassured  it,  and 
left  no  room  to  doubt  our  being  friends.  By  the  next  day, 
it  would  come  from  any  part  of  either  room — alight  Upon  the 
side  of  a  white  China  cup,  containing  the  mixture,  and  drink 
eagerly  with  its  long  bill  thrust  into  the  very  base,  after  the 
manner  of  the  pigeons.  It  would  alight  on  our  fingers,  and 
seem  to  talk  with  us,  endearingly,  in  its  soft  chirps.  Indeed, 
I  never  saw  any  creature  so  thoroughly  tamed  in  so  short  a 


MY  HUMMING  BIKDS.  105 

time  before.  This  state  of  things  continued  some  three 
weeks,  when  I  observed  it  beginning  to  lose  its  vivacity.  I 
resorted  to  every  expedient  I  could  think  of;  offered  it  small 
insects,  &c.,  but  with  no  avail ;  it  would  not  touch  them. 

"We  at  length  came  to  the  melancholy  conclusion,  that  we 
must  either  resign  ourselves  to  see  it  die,  or  let  it  go.  This 
last  alternative  cost  my  sister  some  bitter  tears.  We  had 
made  a  delicate  little  cage  for  it,  and  had  accustomed  it  to 
roosting  and  feeding  in  it  while  loose  in  the  rooms,  and  I 
consoled  her  with  the  hope  that  perhaps  it  might  return  to 
the  cage  as  usual,  even  when  hung  in  the  garden.  The  ex- 
periment was  tried.  The  cage  was  hung  in  a  lilac  bush,  and 
the  moment  the  door  was  opened,  the  little  fellow  darted 
away  out  of  sight.  My  heart  sank  within  me,  for  I  could 
not  but  fear  that  it  was  gone  forever,  and  my  poor  sister 
sobbed  aloud.  I  comforted  her  as  best  I  might,  and  though 
without  any  hope  myself,  endeavored  to  fill  her  with  it  and 
divert  her  grief  by  occupation.  So  we  prepared  a  nice  new 
cup  of  our  nectar — hung  the  cage  with  flowers — left  the  door 
wide  open,  and  the  white  cup  invitingly  conspicuous — then 
resting  from  our  labors,  withdrew  a  short  distance  to  the  foot 
of  a  tree,  to  watch  the  result.  We  waited  for  a  whole  hour, 
with  straining  eyes,  and,  becoming  completely  discouraged, 
had  arisen  from  the  grass,  and  were  turning  to  go,  when  my 
sister  uttered  a  low  exclamation — 

"Whist!  look  brother  I" 

The  little  fellow  was  darting x  to  and  fro  in  front  of  his 
cage  ;  as  if  confused  for  a  moment  by  the  flower  drapery ; 
but  the  white  cup  seemed  to  overcome  his  doubts  very 
quickly,  and,  with  fluttering  hearts,  we  saw  him  settle  upon 
the  cup  as  of  old,  and  while  he  drank,  we  rushed  lightly  foi- 
ward  on  tiptoe  to  secure  him. 

We  were  quite  rebuked  for  our  want  of  faith,  threw  open 
the  door  again,  and  let  him  have  the  rest  of  the  day  to  him- 
self ;  but,  as  I  observed  him  playing  with  some  of  the  wild 
birds,  I  concluded  to  shut  him  up  for  a  week  or  two  longer, 


106  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIRDS. 

when  he  returned  as  usual,  to  roost  that  night.  While  out, 
it  had  evidently  found  the  restorative  for  which  it  had  been 
pining,  and  what  that  might  be  I  now  determined,  if  possi- 
ble, to  discover.  The  necessity  of  having  a  pair  of  the  young 
birds  that  I  might  be  enabled  to  study  their  habits  more  ef- 
fectually, became  now  more  fully  apparent ;  for  I  knew, 
however  tame  our  bird  might  be  now,  that  if  it  happened  to 
meet  with  its  old  mate  or  a  new  one,  it  would  be  sure  to  de- 
sert us,  as  a  matter  of  course.  Young  ones,  raised  by  my- 
self, I  could  trust. 

Chance  favored  me  somewhat  strangely  about  this  time. 
I  had  been  out  squirrel  shooting  early  one  sweltering  hot 
morning ;  and,  on  my  return,  had  thrown  myself  beneath 
the  shade  of  a  thick  hickory,  near  the  bank  of  a  creek.  I 
lay  on  my  back,  looking  listlessly  out  across  the  stream, 
when  the  chirp  of  the  humming  bird,  and  its  darting  form, 
reached  my  senses  at  the  same  instant.  I  was  sure  I  saw  it 
light  upon  the  limb  of  a  small  iron-wood  tree,  that  happened 
to  be  exactly  in  the  line  of  my  vision  at  that  instant.  This 
tree  leaned  over  the  water  a  considerable  distance.  I  thought 
of  Le  Vallient  and  watched  steadily. 

In  about  five  minutes,  another  chirp,  and  another  bird  dart- 
ed in.  I  saw  this  one  drop  upon  what  seemed  to  be  a  knot  on 
an  angle  of  the  limb.  I  heard  the  soft  chirping  of  greeting  and 
love:  I  could  scarcely  contain  myself  for  joy.  I  would  have 
given  anything  in  the  world  to  have  dared  to  scream. — "  I've 
got  you  I  I've  got  you  at  last  1"  By  a  great  struggle,  I  choked 
down  my  ecstasy  and  kept  still.  One  of  them  now  flew  away  ; 
and,  after  waiting  fifteen  minutes,  that  seemed  a  week,  I  rose, 
and  with  my  eye  steadily  fixed  upon  that  important  limb,  I 
walked  slowly  down  the  bank  without,  of  course,  seeing 
where  I  placed  my  feet.  But,  the  highest  hopes  are  some- 
times doomed  to  a  fall,  and  a  fall  mine  took  with  a  ven- 
geance !  I  caught  my  foot  in  a  root,  and  tumbled  head  fore- 
most down  the  bank  into  the  water !  I  suppose  such  a  duck- 
ing would  have  cooled  the  enthusiasm  of  most  bird-nesters ; 


MY  HUMMING  BIEDS.  107 

but  it  only  exasperated  mine :  I  shook  off  the  water  and 
vowed  I'd  find  that  nest  if  it  took  me  a  week  ;  but  how  to  be- 
gin was  the  question.  I  had  lost  the  limb,  and  how  was  I  to 
find  it  among  an  hundred  others  just  like  it. 

The  knot  I  had  seen  was  so  exactly  like  other  knots,  upon 
other  limbs  all  around  it,  that  the  prospect  of  finding  it, 
seemed  a  hopeless  one.  But  "I'll  try  sir!"  is  my  favorite 
motto.  I  laid  myself  down  as  nearly  as  possible  in  the  po- 
sition I  originally  occupied — but,  after  some  twenty  minutes 
experiment,  came  to  the  conclusion  that  my  head  had  been 
too  much  confused  by  the  shock  of  my  fall  and  ducking,  for 
me  to  hope  to  make  much  out  of  this  method.  Then  I  went 
under  the  tree,  and  commencing  at  the  trunk  with  the  lowest 
limb,  which  leaned  over  the  water,  I  followed  it  slowly  and 
carefully  with  my  eye  out  to  the  extremest  twig,  noting  care- 
fully everything  that  seemed  like  a  knot.  This  produced  no 
satisfactory  result  after  half  an  hour's  trial,  and  with  an 
aching  neck  I  gave  it  up  in  despair,  for  I  saw  half  a  dozen 
knots,  either  one  of  which  seemed  as  likely  to  be  the  right 
one  as  the  other. 

I  now  changed  my  tactics  again,  and,  ascending  the  tree, 
I  stopped  with  my  feet  upon  each  one  of  these  limbs  and 
looked  down  along  it  length.  It  was  a  very  tedious  pro- 
ceeding, but  I  persevered.  Knot  after  knot  deceived  me, 
but,  at  last,  when  just  above  the  middle  of  the  tree,  I 
caught  a  sharp  gleam  among  the  leaves,  of  gold  and  purple, 
and  looking  down  upon  the  last  limb  to  which  I  had 
climbed — almost  lost  my  footing  for  the  joy — when  I  saw 
about  three  feet  out  from  where  I  stood,  the  glistening  back 
and  wings  of  the  little  bird  just  covering  the  top  of  one  of 
those  mysterious  knots — -that  was  about  the  size  of  half  a 
hen's  egg.  Its  glancing  head,  long  bill  and  keen  eyes,  were 
turned  upwards  and  perfectly  still,  except  the  latter,  which 
surveyed  me  from  head  to  foot  with  the  most  dauntless  ex- 
pression. It  seemed  to  have  not  the  slightest  intention  of 
moving,  and  I  would  not  have  disturbed  it  for  the  world. 


108  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIRDS. 

It  was  sufficient  delight  to  me  to  gaze  on  my  long  soughc 
treasure.  Its  pure,  white  breast — or  throat,  rather — for  the 
breast  was  sunk  in  the  nest — formed  such  a  sweet  and  inno- 
cent contrast  with  the  splendor  of  its  back,  head  and  wings ! 

This  is  the  most  common  variety  with  us,  and  is  about  a 
size  larger  than  the  scarlet  throat.  I  shall  venture  to  call 
this  variety  the  Emerald  Hummer.  I  could  see  that  this 
wonderful  little  creature,  had  not  only  formed  the  outside 
of  its  nest  to  correspond  in  shape  and  size  exactly  with  the 
natural  knots  on  other  limbs — but  had  so  skilfully  covered 
the  outside  with  the  same  kind  of  moss  .which  grew  upon 
them,  that  no  eye,  however  practiced,  could  have  discovered 
the  deception  from,  beneath.  Having  gratified  my  curiosity 
as  far  as  prudent,  without  running  the  risk  of  driving  her 
from  the  nest,  I  descended  cautiously  and  ran  home  with  the 
news ;  and  great  was  the  joy  thereat  between  my  little  play- 
mates and  myself. 

Now  came  the  anxious  time  for  us ;  we  were  dying  to  get 
a  sight  of  the  eggs,  and  yet  afraid  to  disturb  the  birds.  I 
conquered  this  difficulty  at  last  by  patience,  I  found,  after 
watching  for  several  mornings,  that  they  both  left  the  nest  on 
warm  days  about  noon;  and  were  gone  sometimes  near  an 
hour.  "We  took  this  opportunity,  and  having  climbed  up 
first,  so  as  to  show  her,  my  sister  followed — the  girls  used  to 
climb  like  squirrels  in  Kentucky,  in  my  young  days  ! — and 
many  were  the  expressions  of  childish  delight  as  she  peeped 
over  and  saw  those  three  little  eggs — about  the  size  of  black- 
eyed  peas — lying  like  snowy  pearls, (if  not  diamonds,  as  I  used 
to  expect,)  embedded  in  a  fairy  case,  all  lined  with  cygnet- 
down,  or  the  delicate  floss  of  elfin-hair.  We  did  not  touch, 
or  even  breathe  on  it,  and  descended  quickly,  lest  the  old 
birds  should  find  us  there. 

I  was  unexpectedly  compelled  to  leave  home  about  this 
time,  and  my  sister  promised  that  she  would  not  disturb  the 
nest  till  my  return.  After  an  unexpected  detention  of  two 
weeks,  I  got  back,  and  the  first  thing  the  next  morning  we 


MY  HUMMING  BIRDS.  109 

were  on  our  way,  with  many  misgivings,  to  visit  our  treas- 
ures. 

I  climbed  the  tree,  and  to  my  infinite  astonishment,  two 
birds  entirely  filled  the  nest,  and  in  such  full  size  and  per- 
fect plumage  that  I  thought  I  must  have  come  too  late,  and 
that  these  were  the  old  ones.  They  looked  at  me  as  boldly  as  I 
have  seen  young  eagles  look  unflinchingly,  on  the  intruder 
into  their  eyrie.  I  determined  to  attempt  the  capture,  at 
any  rate,  and  reached  my  hand  towards  them  with  a  gradual 
and  almost  imperceptible  movement.  They  watched  its  ap- 
proach with  no  sign  of  fear,  and  when  I  had  approached  it 
within  an  inch  one  of  them  boldly  pecked  at  it,  as  it  de- 
scended, gently  covering  them  as  they  sat.  I  shouted  for 

joy- 

"  I  have  them  !  I  have  them  !"  and  then  such  dancing 
and  clapping  of  hands  as  there  was  below. 

"  Hurry  !  hurry,  brother !  I  want  to  see  them.  I  want 
to  see  !  I  want  to  see  1" 

For  a  wonder,  I  got  down  without  breaking  my  neck. 
I  had,  with  slight  violence,  taken  the  nest,  with  the  birds, 
from  the  limb  entire.  They  made  not  the  slightest  effort 
to  escape,  nor  did  they  seem  in  the  least  frightened.  "We 
hurried  away,  lest  we  should  witness  the  sufferings  of  the 
bereaved  pair,  whom  we  had  thus  ruthlessly  robbed  of  home 
and  young. 

The  first  thing  on  reaching  the  house,  with  our  captives, 
was  to  try  our  nectar,  of  the  home-made  manufacture,  upon 
the  young  strangers,  who  instantly  paid  us  the  compliment 
of  recognizing  its  merits  in  a  hearty  draught,  which  seemed 
to  set  them  perfectly  at  ease  with  the  world  and  with  them- 
selves. They  now  left  the  nest,  and  perched  upon  our  fin- 
gers with  the  most  lovely  confidence,  and  we  saw  that  they 
were  actually  full  plumed — though  I  doubt  if  they  had  yet 
attempted  to  use  their  wings  abroad.  They  seemed  to  take 
the  sudden  change  in  their  surroundings  with  a  most  con- 
summate people-of-the- world  sort  of  air — just  as  if  they  had 


110  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIRDS. 

been  taught  to  consider  it  as  ungenteel  to  look  surprised  or 
startled  at  anything,  or  to  exhibit  more  than  a  very  cool 
sort  of  curiosity.  "We  were  greatly  amused  at  these  aristo- 
cratic airs,  and  we  were  ourselves  very  curious  to  know  what 
might  chance  to  be  the  titles  of  our  noble  friends  in  their 
own  principality  of  air.  Much  as  they  made  of  themselves, 
I  thought  our  ruby -throat  received  them  with  a  certain  degree 
of  hauteur,  which  was  responded  to  with  the  most  supercil- 
ious indifference  at  all  consistent  with  perfect  good  breeding. 
A  few  days,  however,  sufficed  to  break  down  the  icy  crust 
of  formality,  and  they  began  to  appear  most  guardedly  aware 
of  each  other's  existence.  In  a  few  weeks  we  hung  the  cage 
out  with  open  doors  again — finding  that  all  the  birds  were 
beginning  to  mope  and  look  as  if  they  were  going  to  die, 
as  had  been  the  case  with  the  ruby -breast  several  times  be- 
fore. He  had  always  been  relieved  by  letting  him  out ; 
but,  as  he  instantly  disappeared,  we  could  not  discover  what 
the  antidote  he  sought  might  be. 

When  we  opened  the  cage  this  time,  it  was  a  bright  summer 
morning  just  after  sunrise.  "What  was  our  surprise  to  see  the 
ruby-throat,  instead  of  darting  away  as  usual,  remain  with  the 
young  ones,  which  had  immediately  sought  sprays,  as  if  feel- 
ing a  little  uncertain  what  to  do  with  themselves.  Scarlet  flew 
round  and  round  them ;  then  he  would  dart  off  to  a  little  dis- 
tance in  the  garden  and  suspend  himself  on  the  wing  for  an  in- 
stant, before  what  I  at  first  could  not  perceive  to  be  any- 
thing more  than  two  bare  twigs — then  he  would  return  and 
fly  around  them  again,  as  if  to  show  them  how  easy  it  was. 

The  little  bold  fellows  did  not  require  long  persuasion, 
but  were  soon  launched  on  air  again,  and  in  a  moment  or 
so  were  using  their  wings — for  all  we  could  see — with  about 
as  much  confidence  and  ease  as  Mr.  Euby-throat.  They  too 
commenced  the  same  manoeuvres  among  the  shrubbery,  and 
as  there  were  no  flowers  there,  we  were  sadly  puzzled  to 
think  what  it  was  they  were  dipping  at  so  eagerly,  to  the 
utter  neglect  of  the  many  flowers,  not  one  of  which  they  ap- 


MY  HUMMING  BIEDS.  Ill 

peared  to  notice.  We  moved  closer  to  watch  them  to  better 
advantage,  and,  in  doing  so,  changed  our  relative  position 
to  the  sun.  At  once  the  thing  was  revealed  to  me.  I 
caught  friend  Euby  in  the  very  act  of  abstracting  a  small 
spider,  with  the  point  of  his  long  beak,  from  the  centre  of 
one  of  those  beautiful  circular  webs  of  the  garden  spider, 
that  so  abounds  throughout  the  South.  The  thing  was  done 
so  daintily,  that  he  did  not  stir  the  dew-drops  which,  now 
glittering  in  the  golden  sun,  revealed  the  gossamer  tracery 
all  diamond-strung. 

"  Hah  1  we've  got  your  secret,  my  friends! — Hah!  ha, 
hah  I" 

And  we  clapped  and  danced  in  triumph.  Our  presence 
did  not  disturb  them  in  the  least,  and  we  watched  them 
catching  spiders  for  half  an  hour.  They  frequently  came 
within  two  feet  of  our  faces,  and  we  could  distinctly  see 
them  pluck  the  little  spider  from  the  centre  of  its  wheel 
were  it  lies,  and  swallow  it  entire.  After  this  we  let  them 
out  daily,  and,  although  we  watched  them  closely  and  with 
the  most  patient  care,  we  never  could  see  them  touch  the 
spiders  again,  until  the  usual  interval  of  about  a  fortnight  had 
elapsed,  when  they  attacked  them  again  as  vigorously  as  ever 
• — but  the  foray  of  one  morning  seemed  to  suffice.  We 
also  observed  them  carefully,  to  ascertain  whether  they  ate 
any  other  insects  than  these  spiders — but,  although  we 
brought  them  every  variety  of  the  smallest  and  most  ten- 
der that  we  could  find,  they  did  not  notice  them  at  all — 
but  if  we  would  shut  them  up  past  the  time,  until  they  began 
to  look  drooping,  and  then  bring  one  of  those  little  spiders 
along  with  other  small  insects,  they  would  snap  up  the  spider 
soon  enough,  but  pay  no  attention  to  the  others. 

We  were  thoroughly  convinced,  after  careful  experiment 
upon  two  families  of  them,  that  they  neither  live  entirely 
upon  the  nectar  of  flowers — as  all  the  old  naturalists  sup- 
posed— nor  upon  various  small  insects  in  addition  to  the 
nectar,  as  Mr.  Audubon  asserts.  The  fact  is,  they  can  live 


112  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIEDS. 

no  more  beyond  a  certain  time — about  a  fortnight — upon 
nectar  alone,  than  they  can  upon  air  alone,  nor  do  I  believe 
that  life  could  be  preserved  beyond  a  few  days  upon  spiders 
alone.  There  is  another  ratb-er  curious  observation  we  made, 
that  so  long  as  the  white  cup  was  not  dry,  for  so  long  they 
did  not  condescend  to  notice  the  thousands  of  flowers  by 
which  they  were  surrounded.  We  used  to  starve  them  a 
little  sometimes  for  fun,  and  then  we  would  have  to  hide, 
for  they  would  make  such  a  row !  if  we  appeared — flying 
close  to  our  faces,  pecking  gently  at  our  teeth  and  eyes, 
lighting  on  our  hair  and  pecking  at  it,  or  on  our  shoulders 
pulling  at  it — until,  sometimes,  it  was  almost  difficult  to  tell 
whether  it  was  more  amusing  or  annoying.  At  last  they 
would  go  away  with  evident  reluctance  to  the  garden,  and 
tear  up  about  half  the  flowers  they  tried,  and  darting  towards 
iis  the  moment  we  appeared  again  with  the  magical  white 
cup.  Such  was  the  spell  it  exercised  upon  them,  that  when 
any  of  our  Mends,  who  came  visiting  us,  desired  to  see  them 
when  they  were  out  and  perched  among  the  trees,  either  of 
us  had  only  to  walk  into  the  yard,  and  holding  up  the  white 
cup  above  our  heads,  imitate  their  own  chirp  to  attract  their 
notice,  and  in  an  instant  one  after  another  would  come  dip- 
ping down  from  above,  and  cluster  round  the  rim.  After  a 
draught,  which  was  always  the  first  thing,  they  would  sit  and 
plume  themselves,  stopping  every  now  and  then  to  ask  one 
of  the  strangers  with  their  steady  eyes,  so  like  black  dia- 
monds— 

"  Who  are  you,  pray  ?     What'll  you  take  ?" 

Their  movements  were  so  like  lightning,  that  though  they 
would  let  you  get  your  hand  near  enough  for  them  to  peck 
it,  yet  it  was  impossible  to  catch  them.  They  would  let  us 
do  it  sometimes,  but  never  a  stranger. 

Now  comes  the,  to  me,  most  interesting  portion  of  this 
narrative. 

Our  charming  little  family  remained  with  us  on  these 
pleasing  terms  until  the  middle  of  September,  and  then,  as 


MY  HUMMING   BIRDS.  113 

they  began  to  exhibit  the  usual  restlessness  of  migratory 
birds,  the  sad  question  of  parting  had  to  be  met.  What  we 
had  already  seen  of  them,  convinced  me  conclusively  that 
there  must  have  been  something  of  romance  in  the  story  that 
had  so  enchanted  me  in  the  respectable  pages  of  the  sage 
Port-folio,  during  my  fanciful  childhood,  and  which  sc 
roundly  asserted  that  the  birds  had  been  kept  through  two 
winters  !  Now  it  is  barely  possible  said  conservatory  may 
have  had  a  due  supply  of  spiders,  for  of  one  thing  I  am  very 
sure — that  no  Humming  Bird  could  have  been  kept  alive 
without  them  any  more  than  gold-fish  could  be  kept  alive  in 
distilled  water,  in  which  all  the  animalcule,  which  consti- 
tute their  natural  food,  had  been  destroyed.  We  came,  at 
last,  to  the  conclusion  that  it  would  be  selfish  and  abomina- 
bly cruel  of  us  to  keep  the  delicate  things  with  us  in  the 
blustering  north,  to  die  of  pining  for  the  scented  bowers  of 
their  far  sunny  home.  We  let  them  out,  and  with  many 
tears  saw  them  dart  away  at  once  towards  the  south,  as  if 
they  felt  they  had  already  tarried  too  long. 

We  saw  them  but  for  an  instant  on  the  air,  and  our  sweet 
pets  were  gone ! 

It  took  us  a  long  time  to  reconcile  ourselves  to  the  loneli- 
ness in  which  they  left  us,  but  our  consolation  was,  that  next 
spring  I  should  find  another  nest,  and  they  should  be  scarlet 
throats  this  time,  and  we  should  know  better  how  to  take 
care  of  them  now,  as  we  knew  better  how  to  find  them  from 
experience.  Such  a  lovely  family  as  we  were  going  to  have ! 
We  made  a  new  and  elegant  house  during  the  winter  leisure, 
in  anticipation  of  the  new  tenants  that  were  to  be !  In  the 
meantime,  as  I  always  had  some  half  dozen  different  kinds 
of  pets  on  hand,  we  found  occupation  and  amusement  in 
taking  care  of  them  and  occasionally  adding  to  the  stock. 

This,  together  with  the  winter  hunting,  trapping,  and 
books,  gave  swift  wings  to  the  hours  for  me.  Winter  broke 
up — spring  came  with  its  tender  wild  flowers  and  fickle 
smiles.  Spring  is  the  time  for  poetry — when  one  is  yet  in 


114  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIEDS. 

the  teens — and  I  had  fallen  into  a  dreamy  mood  in  which  I 
was  permitting  the  spring  to  go  by,  without  noting  its  flight, 
when  I  was  suddenly  roused  one  May  morning  by  a  most 
curious  and  unexpected  incident. 

I  had  gone  into  the  garden  summer-house  with  my  book 
as  the  excuse,  but  dreaming  as  usual,  without  noticing  the 
letters  on  its  pages,  when  a  soft,  whirring  noise,  close  to  my 
face,  caused  me  to  look  up.  About  one  foot  from  me  a 
Humming  Bird,  poised  so  steadily  upon  the  wing  that  its 
body  seemed  perfectly  motionless,  looked  with  its  bright, 
knowing  eye  fixedly  into  mine.  It  did  not  move  when  I 
lifted  my  head,  and  retaining  this  position  for  nearly  a  quar- 
ter of  a  minute,  with  a  low  chirp  darted  out  and  settled  on 
some  flowers  near  to  trim  its  plumes.  I  started  up,  while  a 
quick  thought  sent  a  thrill  of  exquisite  pleasure  through  my 
whole  frame.  The  bird  sat  still.  I  ran  with  my  utmost 
speed  to  the  house,  and,  catching  a  glimpse  of  my  sister, 
cried  out  to  her,  almost  beside  myself  with  excitement — 

"  Get  the  white  cup !  Get  our  cup !  some  honey !  some 
sugar ! — here's  the  water ! — quick  dear !  quick !  for  heaven's 
sake !" 

"  What  is  the  matter  with  you,  brother  ?"  exclaimed  the 
distracted  child,  endeavoring  at  the  same  time  to  execute 
these  multifarious  orders  all  at  once. 

"  O,  our  bird's  come  back !  I  saw  him  just  now !  Where 
are  the  closet  keys  ?  0,  he's  come,  back  to  us  all  the  way 
from  South  America- — the  little  darling !  I  thought  he 
couldn't  forget  us  1" 

"  But,  brother,  you  are  mad — how  can  you  tell  it  from  an- 
other Humming  Bird — I've  seen  a  dozen  this  spring  !" 

"  Oh !  I  know  it  was  one  of  the  young  ones— he  came  in 
and  looked  me  in  the  eyes  ever  so  long !  Do  make  haste !" 

The  mixture  is  completed  and  off  we  run  in  trembling 
eagerness — for  this  test  we  knew  would  decide  for  or  against 
us.  We  reach  the  summer-house — the  magical  white  cup  is 
raised  before  us,  it  is  still  sitting  on  the  flower, — we  give  one 


MY  HUMMING  BIRDS.  115 

chirp  as  of  old,  and  without  an  instant's  hesitation  it  darts  to 
the  cup,  alights  upon  the  rim  and  plunges  its  little  thirsty 
bill  up  to  the  very  eyes  in  that  delicious  cup,  and  takes  the 
longest,  deepest  draught,  I  ever  saw  taken  before  by  one  of 
them ;  and  this  convinced  me  that  it  had  just  arrived,  and 
had  come  straight  to  its  old  home  for  food  and  love.  My  sis- 
ter burst  into  tears  and  screams  of  joyous  laughter,  and  as  to 
what  ridiculous  capers  I  might  have  been  guilty  of,  I  cannot 
tell — I  only  remember  the  self-contented  and  philosophical 
manner  in  which  the  returned  pilgrim  continued  to  plume 
its  storm -ruffled  feathers,  uttering  now  and  then  the  old 
chirps  on  the  side  of  that  cup  ;  this  position  it  continued 
to  retain  until  we  bore  him  on  it  to  his  new  house,  of  which 
he  assumed  possession  with  a  remarkably  matter  of  fact,  or 
rather  matter  of  course,  air. 

About  a  week  after  this,  while  walking  in  the  garden  one 
morning,  I  observed  two  humming  birds  engaged  in  chasing 
each  other  in  a  very  coy  and  loving  manner.  Something  in 
the  tame  and  confident  manner  of  one  of  them  made  me  sus- 
pect it  was  our  bird  engaged  in  making  love.  I  went  back 
for  the  white  cup,  and  this  time,  too,  its  magic  proved  itself 
invincible — for  both  birds  came  without  hesitation  and  set- 
tled upon  the  rim — the  one  which  took  the  long  and  eager 
draught  as  if  perishing  of  fatigue  and  hunger,  proved  to  be 
the  female  that  had  just  arrived.  It  was  a  little  larger  than 
the  male,  and  seemed,  at  first,  somewhat  shyer  than  he, 
though  a  few  days  were  sufficient  to  make  all  right  as  ever 
between  us  again. 

How  wondrous  strange  and  incomprehensible  it  seemed  to 
us — the  acuteness  of  senses — the  strength  of  memory  and 
affection — the  wizzard  sagacity,  in  a  word — that  could  have 
brought  these  tiny  creatures  back  to  us,  from  so  many  thou- 
sand miles  away,  straight  as  the  arrow  from  the  bow.  I  have 
never  ceased  wondering  at  that  strange  incident — but  there  is 
one  yet  quite  as  droll  to  come.  The  love  season  had  now  fully 
commenced,  and  our  birds  began  to  be  absent  for  several 


116  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIKDS. 

hours  together,  and  we  observed  that  at  these  times  they  darted 
straight  up  into  the  air  until  they  were  out  of  sight  before 
they  took  their  course,  so  that  watch  as  we  might  we  never 
could  find  out  which  way  they  went.  They  also  adopted 
the  same  precaution  in  returning,  when  they  seemed  to  fall 
•  perpendicularly  from  the  clouds.  They  did  not  appear  any 
the  less  tame  for  all  this — but,  though  I  tried  in  every  pos- 
sible way  to  find  out  their  secret,  yet  they  entirely  baffled 
me,  and  I  am  not  sure  that  I  ever  saw  their  brood  even — 
though  about  the  time  when  they  ought  to  have  been  out 
we  used  to  notice  more  birds  than  we  could  well  account  for 
around  the  white  cup  in  the  cage  ;  yet,  as  those  strangers  ap- 
peared to  be  somewhat  shy,  we  did  not  press  an  acquaint- 
ance. It  was  nothing  more  than  a  conjecture  on  our  part, 
that  these  were  the  new  brood  of  our  pets ! 

But  I  am  getting  a  little  ahead  of  my  story  in  events.  I 
have  mentioned  that  we  had  vowed  to  have  a  nest  of  ruby- 
throats  added  to  our  collection  this  Spring,  and  in  giving  a 
detail  of  the  manner  in  which  I  went  to  work  for  the  accom- 
plishment of  this  vow  I  shall  furnish  you  some  idea  of  the 
tedious  processes  of  the  practical  naturalist. 

My  father  had  some  men  at  work  "getting  out  logs" — as 
it  is  called — on  a  considerable  creek  some  two  miles  off. 
One  of  them,  who  knew  of  my  passion  for  these  birds,  men- 
tioned to  me,  that  he  had  twice,  while  watering  his  horse  at 
a  certain  crossing  in  the  woods,  observed  a  humming  bird 
fly  past  over  the  middle  of  the  channel  and  up  the  stream. 
This,  he  said,  was  about  five  o'clock,  both  times.  This  was 
enough  for  me.  I  ordered  my  horse,  and  in  a  few  moments 
was  under  whip  and  spur — for  it  was  nearly  that  time  now — 
for  this  little  ford.  I  reached  it  a  few  minutes  before  five  by 
a  bridle  path.  I  sat  upon  my  horse  until  dusk  in  the  middle 
of  the  stream,  but  no  humming  bird.  Next  day  I  came  at 
noon — staid  an  hour  with  no  avail.  I  went  at  four  again 
and  staid  until  half-past  five,  but  still  no  bird.  I  was  not 
discouraged,  but  as  I  rode  slowly  home,  determined  to  change 


MY  HUMMING  BIRDS.  117 

my  tactics  next  day,  for  I  remembered  that  my  impatient 
horse  had  been  pawing  in  the  water  all  the  time,  and  this,  no 
doubt,  had  alarmed  the  cautious  birds,  and  caused  them  to 
change  their  usual  course.  Next  day  I  chose  my  position 
under  some  thick  overhanging  trees,  where  I  could  see  and 
not  be  seen.  I  did  not  see  them  on  the  morning  watch.  In 
the  afternoon,  precisely  at  five,  the  male  came  by,  and  I  had 
the  satisfaction  of  seeing  that  it  was  a  ruby-throat.  I  judged 
from  the  height  at  which  it  flew  that  the  nest  was  not  very 
far  off.  Well,  to  make  a  long  story  short,  I  came  the  next 
day  and  took  my  station  about  a  hundred  and  fifty  yards  far- 
ther up  the  stream — saw  them  both  pass  at  five,  flying,  I 
thought,  just  a  little  lower ;  the  next  evening  I  moved  still 
farther  up  with  the  same  result. 

The  next  I  did  not  move  so  far — for  here  was  a  strait 
stretch  of  the  channel  of  considerable  length,  and  I  could 
command  it  with  my  eye  from  where  I  stood.  Here  I  saw 
them  go  by,  one  a  few  minutes  after  the  other ;  and  observed 
that  their  flight  was  now  very  low  ;  but  after  they  had  pass- 
ed me  a  short  distance,  each  of  them  shot  suddenly  and  per- 
pendicularly up  into  the  air  until  I  lost  sight  of  them. 
The  next  evening,  it  was  the  same  thing,  and  now  I  was 
convinced  that  the  nest  must  be  close  at  hand ;  that  they 
rose  in  this  sudden  manner  to  make  a  perpendicular  descent 
which  would  baffle  pursuit  from  all -enemies.  I  watched 
near  this  place  three  evenings  more — changing  my  position 
only  a  little  each  time — before  I  had  the  satisfaction  at  last 
of  seeing  the  female  come  down  like  a  falling  aerolite  from 
the  clouds  and  drop  upon  her  nest.  I  had  thus  spent  more 
than  a  whole  week  in  this  patient  pursuit,  and  now  that  it 
had  been  crowned  with  success,  I  wheeled  my  horse,  and 
with  an  indescribable  feeling  of  both  pride  and  joy,  galloped 
home  with  the  news  to  my  sister.  I  had  conquered  one  of 
the  stubbornest  secrets  of  nature — not  this  time  by  accident, 
but  by  science  and  perseverance.  I  was  proud  of  it,  and  so 
was  she.  At  the  proper  time  I  brought  the  young  birds 


118  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIRDS. 

home  in  triumph.  There  were  only  two,  though,  as  in  the 
other  instance,  there  had  been  three  eggs.  This  curious  fact 
is  common  to  several  families  of  birds,  and  seems  to  be  a 
provision  against  accident,  though  I  believe  the  third  egg 
is  seldom  permitted  to  hatch. 

"We  had  now  two  families  which  seemed  to  get  along  to- 
gether very  amiably.  The  male  of  the  ruby -throats  was 
easily  distinguishable  by  the  dark  feathers  on  the  throat 
which  marked  the  place  where,  on  his  next  moulting,  that 
breastplate  of  glittering  mail  should  appear  blazing  like  a 
talisman  of  carbuncle.  We  were  greatly  distressed  that  we 
should  have  to  run  all  the  risks  of  their  problematic  return 
in  the  following  spring  before  we  should  be  enabled  to  solace 
our  eyes  in  the  enjoyment  of  this  coveted  pleasure. 

"We  now  frequently  captured  old  birds  in  the  library, 
and  never  failed  in  taming  them  entirely  in  a  few  days.  At 
one  time,  our  family  consisted  of  six,  and  we  had  but  to 
walk  out  with  the  white  cup  and  sound  the  gathering  chirp, 
and,  one  after  another,  the  whole  of  them  came  skimming 
down  from  the  trees  in  all  directions,  to  alight  upon  its  rim, 
or  upon  us  if  they  were  not  hungry. 

The  novelty  of  such  pets  attracted  great  attention ;  and 
we  had  many  visitors ;  and  the  fair  young  girls  plead  hard 
with  me  to  give  them  one — but  I  could  never  consent  to 
trust  my  delicate  people  in  unaccustomed  hands,  except  in 
a  single  instance,  in  which  the  fair  pleader  bewitched  me 
with  eyes  so  like  those  of  the  bird,  that  I  gave  her  one  of 
the  old  ones,  and  heard  to  my  sorrow  that  it  died  in  a 
week. 

Our  lovely  family  broke  up  with  the  autumn.  One  after 
one,  they  disappeared  suddenly,  and  we  were  left  alone — 
alas,  this  time  forever — none  of  them  ever  came  back ! 

Have  we  been  describing  creatures  of  blind  and  fated  im- 
pulse— machines  without  volition,  propelled,  like  any  other 
arrangement  of  springs  and  wheels,  by  elemental  forces,  on 
through  a  certain  and  fixed  round  of  action  over  which  they 


MY  HUMMING  BIEDS.  119 

have  no  control, — or  have  we  told  the  history  of  beings  pos- 
sessing memory  in  common  with  man — gratitude,  whether 
in  common  with  him  or  not — faith,  affection,  bravery — a 
small  touch  of  the  loafer,  as  witnessed  in  their  affection  for 
the  white  cup  with  its  brimming  bowl,  in  preference  to  the 
meagre  and  bee-rifled  chalices  of  flowers — a  remarkable  de- 
gree of  caution  in  hiding  their  nests — of  cunning  in  going  to 
and  from  them — of  mechanical  and  artistic  skill  in  construct- 
ing their  wonderful  homes — of  judgment  in  placing  them 
over  the  water — of  sagacity  in  using  their  acute  senses  to 
guide  them  back  and  forth  on  their  two  long  yearly  pil- 
grimages ?  These  are  questions  the  learned  will  have  to 
meet  one  day ! 

I  ventured  to  suggest,  in  the  first  part  of  this  article,  that 
the  scarlet  or  ruby-throated  humming  bird  has  been  con- 
founded with  another  variety,  which  I  have  named  the 
Emerald  or  green-backed  humming  bird.  They  are  both  very 
common  north  of  Florida,  and,  indeed,  the  ruby-throat  is 
said  to  be  the  only  variety  which  visits  us  at  the  North. 
The  Emerald  humming  bird  resembles  the  old  female  of  the 
ruby -throated  bird,  or  scarlet-throat,  as  we  have  called  it 
from  the  predominance  of  that  blazing  hue  in  the  changing 
splendors  of  its  throat !  The  green  birds  resemble,  also,  the 
young  female  of  the  ruby -throat — and  hence  the  confusion. 
The  points  of  distinction,  however,  are  clear  enough,  when 
the  attention  has  been  once  attracted  toward  noting  them. 
The  two  families  of  my  pets  belonged  to  the  two  varieties, 
and,  therefore,  I  had  ample  opportunity  of  careful  compari- 
son. The  female  of  all  humming  birds  is  the  largest ; — 
well,  in  the  matter  of  size,  I  found  the  difference  to  be  this 
— the  female  of  the  ruby-throat  is  of  the  same  size  with  the 
male  of  the  green — while  the  female  of  the  green  is  nearly 
one-third  larger.  The  throat  of  the  male  of  the  green  is 
always  a  pure,  clear  white,  while  the  plumage  of  the  back 
is  a  darker  and  more  resplendent  green.  The  throat  of  the 
ruby,  during  the  first  year,  is  distinctly  marked  a  grayish 


120  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIRDS. 

blue  over  that  portion  which,  at  the  next  moulting,  assumes 
its  splendid  colors. 

There  is  no  possibility  of  mistaking  the  males  of  the  two 
in  the  nest  or  out  of  it.  The  bill  of  the  green  is  much 
longer  and  coarser ;  as  are  its  shape,  plumage,  and  color, 
than  the  ruby,  which  is  one  of  the  most  fairy -like  and 
graceful  of  all  the  hummers.  Their  habits  do  not  seem  to 
differ  in  any  very  essential  particulars,  but  no  observer,  how- 
ever careless,  can  fail  to  see  the  marked  difference  between  - 
the  two  varieties  when  compared  together,  either  on  the 
wing  or  perched.  The  flight  of  the  green  is  the  more 
heavy  and  slow,  and  it  seems  to  possess  less  of  spirit  and 
boldness  than  the  other.  The  pair  that  returned  to  me  the 
next  spring  were  green  humming  birds,  and  the  male  of  this 
pair  never  exhibited  either  the  blueish  blotch  on  the  throat, 
which  the  ruby  has  when  it  comes  from  the  nest,  nor  was 
there  any  change  perceptible  in  the  plumage  at  all,  except 
that  the  white  of  the  throat  and  breast  had  become  a  purer 
white,  and  the  green  of  the  back  darker,  more  variable  and 
brilliant. 

The  nest,  too,  is  larger  by  nearly  one-third,  and  less 
elegantly  finished  than  that  of  the  ruby.  So  marked  is 
the  difference  between  the  two  varieties,  that  I  can  easily 
point  them  out  on  the  wing  in  our  gardens,  although,  not 
only  all  our  American  naturalists  have  classed  them  as  one 
species,  but  the -great  mass  of  interested  observers  are  not 
yet  aware  of  the  differences.  Now,  that  attention  has  once 
been  called -to  the  facts,  they  are  promptly  enough  seen  and 
recognized.  Mr.  Audubon  gives  us  four  humming  birds, 
north  of  Texas — the  Euby-throated,  the  Mangrove,  the  Anna, 
and  the  Buffed.  To  this  enumeration,  I  venture  to  add  a 
fifth,  the  .common  or  Emerald  humming  bird,  and  it  is  not  a 
little  singular  that  this  species,  which  of  all  the  rest  is  most 
universally  diffused,  should  yet  have  not  been  named  before. 
Of  the  three  last  named  above,  the  first  belongs  to  Florida, 
the  other  two  to  the  Pacific  coast. 


MY  HUMMING  BIRDS.  121 

We  will,  however,  before  concluding,  give  also  to  the  reader 
some  interesting  passages  from  the  observations  of  other  na- 
turalists. Audubon  says  of  the  ruby -throated  hummer : 

"  The  nest  of  this  humming  bird  is  of  the  most  delicate 
nature,  the  external  parts  being  formed  of  a  light  gray  lichen 
found  on  the  branches  of  trees,  or  on  decayed  fence-rails, 
and  so  neatly  arranged  round  the  whole  nest,  as  well  as  to 
some  distance  from  the  spot  where  it  is  attached,  as  to  seem 
part  of  the  branch  or  stem  itself.  These  little  pieces  of  lichen 
are  glued  together  by  the  saliva  of  the  bird.  The  nest 
coating  consists  of  cottony  substance,  and  the  innermost  of 
silky  fibres  obtained  from  various  plants,  all  extremely  deli- 
cate and  soft.  On  this  comfortable  bed,  as  in  contradiction 
to  the  axiom  that  the  smaller  the  species  the  greater  the 
number  of  eggs,  the  female  lays  only  two,  which  are  pure 
white  and  nearly  oval.  Ten  days  are  required  for  their 
hatching,  and  the  birds  raise  two  broods  in  a  season.  In 
one  week  the  young  are  ready  to  fly,  but  are  fed  by  the  pa- 
rents for  nearly  another  week.  They  receive  their  food  di- 
rectly from  the  bill  of  their  parents,  which  disgorge  it  in 
the  manner  of  canaries  or  pigeons.  It  is  my  belief  that  no 
sooner  are  the  young  able  to  provide  for  themselves  than 
they  associate  with  other  broods,  and  perform  their  migra- 
tions apart  from  the  old  birds,  as  I  have  observed  twenty 
or  thirty  young  humming  birds  resort  to  a  group  of  trum- 
pet flowers,  when  not  a  single  old  male  was  to  be  seen. 
They  do  not  receive  the  full  brilliancy  of  their  colors  until 
the  succeeding  spring,  although  the  throat  of  the  male  bird 
is  strongly  imbued  with  the  ruby  tints  before  they  leave  us 
in  autumn. 

"  I  have  seen  many  of  these  birds  kept  in  partial  confine- 
ment, when  they  wese  supplied  with  artificial  flowers  made 
for  the  purpose,  in  the  corollas  of  which  water  with  honey 
or  sugar  dissolved  in  it  was  placed.  The  birds  were  fed  on 
these  substances  exclusively,  but  seldom  lived  many  months, 
and  on  being  examined  after  death,  were  found  to  be  ex- 


122  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIEDS. 

tremely  emaciated.  Others,  on  the  contrary,  which  were 
supplied  twice  a  day  with  fresh  flowers  from  the  woods  or 
garden,  placed  in  a  room  with  windows  merely  closed  with 
moschetto  gauze-netting,  through  which  minute  insects  were 
able  to  enter,  lived  twelve  months,  at  the  expiration  of 
which  time  their  liberty  was  granted  them,  the  person  who 
kept  them  having  had  a  long  journey  to  perform.  The 
room  was  kept  artificially  warmed  during  the  winter  months, 
and  these  in  Lower  Louisiana  are  seldom  so  cold  as  to  pro- 
duce ice.  On  examining  an  orange-tree  which  had  been 
placed  in  the  room  where  these  humming  birds  were  kept, 
no  appearance  of  a  nest  was  to  be  seen,  although  the  birds 
had  frequently  been  observed  caressing  each  other.  Some 
have  been  occasionally  kept  confined  in  our  Middle  Dis- 
tricts, but  I  have  not  ascertained  that  any  one  survived  a 
winter." 

Here  are  some  curious  facts  concerning  the  most  remarka- 
ble variety  of  the  species — the  Buffed  Humming  Bird.  They 
are  from  Nuttall's  and  Townsend's  notes — 

"  We  began,"  says  the  first  of  these  enterprising  travellers, 
"  to  meet  with  this  species  near  the  Blue  Mountains  of  the 
Columbia  Kiver,  in  the  autumn  as  we  proceeded  to  the  west. 
These  were  all  young  birds,  and  were  not  very  easily  distin- 
guished from  those  of  the  common  species  of  the  same  age. 
We  now  for  the  first  time  (April  16)  saw  the  males  in  num- 
bers, darting,  buzzing,  and  squeaking  in  "the  usual  manner 
of  their  tribe ;  but  when  engaged  in  collecting  its  accustomed 
sweets  in  all  the  energy  of  life,  it  seemed  like  a  breathing 
gem,  or  magic  carbuncle  of  glowing  fire,  stretching  out 
its  gorgeous  ruff,  as  if  to  emulate  the  sun  itself  in  splendor. 
Towards  the  close  of  May  the  females  were  sitting,  at  which 
time  the  males  were  uncommonly  quarrelsome  and  vigilant, 
darting  out  at  me  as  I  approached  the  tree  probably  near  the 
nest,  looking  like  an  angry  coal  of  brilliant  fire,  passing 
within  very  little  of  my  face,  returning  several  times  to  the 
attack,  sinking  and  darting  with  the  utmost  velocity,  at  the 


MY  HUMMING  BIEDS.  123 

same  time  uttering  a  curious,  reverberating,  sharp  bleat, 
somewhat  similar  to  the  quivering  twang  of  a  dead  twig,  yet 
also  so  much  like  the  real  bleat  of  some  small  quadruped, 
that  for  some  time  I  searched  the  ground  instead  of  the  air 
for  the  actor  in  the  scene.  At  other  times  the  males  were 
seen  darting  up  high  in  the  air  and  whirling  about  each 
other  in  great  anger  and  with  much  velocity.  After  these 
manoevres  the  aggressor  returned  to  the  same  dead  twig, 
where  for  days  he  regularly  took  his  station  with  all  the 
courage  and  angry  vigilance  of  a  king-bird.  The  angry  hiss- 
ing or  bleating  note  of  this  species  seems  something  like 
whf  f  f  £  tshvee,  tremulously  uttered  as  it  whirls  and  sweeps 
through  the  air,  like  a  musket  ball,  accompanied  also  by 
something  like  the  whirr  of  the  Night-Hawk.  On  the  29th 
of  May  I  found  a  nest  of  this  species  in  a  forked  branch  of 
the  Nootka  Bramble,  Rubus  Nutkanus.  The  female  was  sit- 
ting on  two  eggs  of  the  same  shape  and  color  as  those  of  the 
common  species.  The  nest,  also,  was  perfectly  similar,  but 
somewhat  deeper.  As  I  approached,  the  female  came  hover- 
ing round  the  nest,  and  soon  after,  when  all  was  still,  she  re- 
sumed her  place  contentedly." 

Dr.  Townsend's  note  is  as  follows — 

"  ISTootka  Sound  Humming  Birds,  Trochilus  rufus,  Ah- 
puets-rinne  of  the  Chinooks.  On  a  clear  day  the  male  may 
be  seen  to  rise  to  a  great  height  in  the  air,  and  descend  in- 
stantly near  the  earth,  then  mount  again  to  the  same  altitude 
as  at  first,  performing  in  the  evolution  the  half  of  a  large  circle. 
During  the  descent  it  emits  a  strange  and  astonishingly  loud 
note,  which  can  be  compared  to  nothing  but  the  rubbing  to- 
gether of  the  limbs  of  trees  during  a  high  wind.  I  heard  this 
singular  note  repeatedly  last  spring  and  summer,  but  did  not 
then  discover  to  what  it  belonged.  I  did  not  suppose  it  be 
a  bird  at  all,  and  least  of  all  a  humming  bird.  The  observer 
thinks  it  almost  impossible  that  so  small  a  creature  can  be 
capable  of  producing  so  much  sound.  I  have  never  observ- 
ed this  habit  on  a  dull  or  cloudy  day." 


CHAPTER  Y. 

SONG  OF  THE  CHILDREN  ABOUT  SPRING. 

THE    HOURS. 
I. 

They  the  pure  of  heart  never  do  grow  old, 
For  spring-time  finds  them  fall  of  love  to-day, 

As  three-score  summers  since  when  curls  of  gold, 
Shone  on  those  temples  that  are  delved  and  gray. 

They  come !  they  come !  with  the  golden  hair 
And  sky-blue  eyes — they  all  are  there ! 

List !  0  list  ye  1 — the  song  they  sing, 
Their  song  is  a  light  song — light  song — 

A  song  about  spring ! 

THE    CHILDREN. 
II. 

We  are  younger  forever  as  truth  must  be, 

For  we  cannot  grow  old  in  simplicity. 

"We  give  out  our  lives  as  those  streams  do  the  sun, 

That  prattling  o'er  pebble-beds  flash  as  they  run. 

We  sing  in  our  joy — sing  in  our  grief — 

Must  sing  to  be  gladder— sing  for  relief, 

Now  we  are  so  happy — must  let  our  hearts  go, 

Ah  sing  we  will — sing  we  must  merrily  O  ! — 

Eight  cherrily  0  1     Spring  is  coming  again, 

A  jubilant  earth  is  awaiting  her  reign  ! 


SONG  OF  THE  CHILDKEN  ABOUT  SPUING.  125 

We  are  going  to  tell  you  the  tale  of  mirth, 

A  right  merry,  a  joyous  tale, 
About  how  this  Spring  cometh  back  to  the  earth, 

And  everything  shouteth  all  hail ! 

Since  Winter  must  flee  ; — 

An  old  tyrant  he  ! 

III. 

We  hate  an  old  fellow 
Whose  beard  is  gray 
Who  can't  be  made  mellow, 

Who  wont  be  gay, 
Who  is  all  so  shrivelled  that  he  hath  no  blood, 

And  whose  breath  is  so  mortal  cold, 
That  he  couldn't  be  pleasant  if  pleasant  he  would — 
Then  he  is  so  piteous  old ! 

Yet  though  he  be  old  he  is  wonderous  strong, 

And  weary  from  far  is  his  flight, 
And  if  he  but  pipeth  his  terrible  song, 

I  ween  you  would  shake  with  affright. 

For  though  he  be  thin,  he  is  a  lithe  eld  one, 
And  he  hath  too,  some  fierce  odd  ways — • 

It's  an  awsome  kind  of  a  glee  that  has  run 
Through  such  mirth  of  his  all  his  days ! 

He  has  an  ugly  knack  of  making  fun, 

When  he  sinketh  tall  ships  at  sea, 
A  gurgling  whirl-of-a-laugh  that  hath  spun 

Them  down  !  down,  to  where  Death  should  be  ! 

Then  over  mountains  goes  whistling  to  play 

With  'wildered  and  wan  Traveller, 
And  heapeth  and  hurtleth  snow  drifts  in  his  way, 

Until  he  forgeteth  to  fear. 


126  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIRDS. 

And  now  he  lies  down  beneath  white  sheets  of  home, 

Sleeping  slowly  to  dreamless  rest, 
While  shrieking  winds,  as  his  senses  grow  numb, 

Are  changed  for  the  harps  of  the  blest. 

And  where  the  great  city  uplifteth  its  crest, 
He  will  find  how  the  poor  folk  hide, 

Ah  !  that  is  the  sport  which  he  loveth  the  best, 
In !  through  the  rough  crannies  to  glide ! 

And  fiercely  go  singing  beneath  each  tatter, 
Then  hiss  at  them  when  they  make  wails, 

And  pierce  and  pinch  them  until  their  teeth  chatter, 
And  their  lips  grow  blue  as  their  nails. 

Then  he  loveth  to  slam  at  the  rich  man's  door, 
And  rattle  and  bang  through  his  halls, 

And  taunt  him  with  creakings  and  dismally  roar, 
'Till  the  fur- wrapped  thing  he  appalls ; 

And  it  shivers  cringing,  to  think  of  the  Poor 
That  are  dying  without  its  walls. 

IV. 
He  comes  from  a  dreary,  glittering  land, 

Where  strange  bright  horrors  dwell, 
You  could  not  expect  he'd  be  very  bland, 

Whose  playmates  were  so  fell. 

For  all  monstrous  shapes  like  the  Lion  Seal, 

Tusked  Walrus  and  White  Bear, 
With  the  long  Whales  plunging,  roar  and  reel 

In  uncouth  gambols  there. 

Amidst  great  seas  on  the  air  uplifted, 
Their  icy  walls  wind-torn, 


SONG  OF  THE  CHILDEEN  ABOUT  SPEING.  127 

Into  hugest  craggy  phantoms  drifted, 
Crashing  together  borne. 

Deep  green  all  below,  and  in  glinting  white, 

Where  clear  peaks  climb  the  skies, 
They  topple  and  clang  in  a  loud  vast  fight, 

Meet  for  a  demon's  eyes. 

v. 

Above  this  wild  motion  he  broodeth  and  sails, 

Makes  the  air  dun  with  his  wings, 
Then  rocks  on  the  Kraken  or  stuns  the  Narwhales 

With  the  ice-spear  that  he  flings. 
He  loveth  such  delicate  sports  as  these, 

A  hunter  of  monsters  he, 
I  ween  he  rouseth  those  ice-mountained  seas 

To  thunder  and  leap  t'  his  glee, 
Till  they  heave  at  the  stars  their  lance-keen  tops, 

While  the  lashed  chase  passeth  by, 
Then  lo  !  every  burnish'd  pinnacle  drops 

To  crash  down  the  steeps  from  on  high  I 

Yery  rude  are  the  points  and  angles  there  ; 

As  he  flaps  between  the  crags 
They  topple  and  roll  so  much  that  they  tear 

His  smooth  pinions  on  the  jags. 
You  may  know  when  the  nice  sleet-polished  plumes 

Of  a  prim  old  Boy  like  he 
Have  been  torn,  how  churlish  vanity  fumes 

That  other  things  nice  should  be  ; 
For  e'en  the  monsters  gaping  spout  and  jeer 

That  he  looketh  so  dismally. 

So  he  whirls  him  in  great  wrath  up  the  air, 
With  his  Fiend- Winds  thronged  behind, 


128  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIRDS. 

And  if  green  and  sunshine  make  the  earth  fair, 

Food  for  his  spite  he  will  find. 
But  0  !  it's  a  hideous  sort  of  spleen, 

And  a  very  hard  cold  hate, 
That  could  come  where  joyous  summer  had  been 

Just  to  leave  all  desolate ! 

VI. 

The  rolling  river, 

We  loved  to  see 
In  sunbeams  quiver, — 

Darkened  left  he 
Green  forests,  waving 

Like  the  deep  sea, 
Vexed  to  upheaving — 

All,  bare,  left  he 
The  flame- winged  bird 

That  lit  the  tree, 
Where  its  song  was  heard, — 

Banished  had  he ! 
The  floweret's  eye 

That  smiled  sweetly 
Where  the  dead  leaves  lie 

Frozen  had  he. 

Fled  darkened  and  bare  and  frozen  were  they, 
The  timid  and  bright  things  dare  not  to  stay  ; 
A  cruel  old  tyrant  to  revel  thus, 
In  murdering  beauty,  in  howling  and  fuss ! 

Though  mournful  this  be,  it  is  far  sadder  still 

When  in  the  track  of  his  merciless  will 

Human  hearts  bowed — they  the  warm  and  the  brave 

The  best  loved  and  frailest  his  stern  hours  gave 

Coldly  to  Death.     0  it  is  hard  thus  to  slay 

These  gentle  ones  when  their  loved  summer's  away — 


SONG  OP  THE   CHILDREN  ABOUT  SPRING.  129 

No  flowers  to  weep  them  in  dew-glistening  eyes, 

Or  climb  in  sweet  odors  up  with  them  to  the  skies  1 — 

They  go  with  the  chill  of  his  breath  on  their  wings, 

Till  they  come  to  where  Heaven's  own  fire-fountain  springs. 

VII. 

But  joy !  0  joy !  a  love-breath  shall  rout  him  ! 

Sing  merrily  O  !• — 

The  tyrant  must  go — 
Bundle  that  ghastly  mantle  about  him, 

That  mantle  of  snow 

That  beginneth  to  show 
His  shrunk  limbs  like  grave  clothes  rent  on  a  corse  ; 

And  far,  fast  and  high 

Old  shrunk-shanks  must  fly  ; 
Or  what  o'ertakes  him  than  death  shall  be  worse, 

For  zephyrs  go  by 

Who  tell  spring  is  nigh — 
And  rather  than  kiss  her  he'd  many  times  die  ! 

VIII. 

Ah !  hah,  she  is  coming 

The  merry-eyed  maiden ! — 
"We  hear  them  far  humming 

Her  train  flower-laden. 

For  tripping  sprites  are  they — 

In  beamy  joyous  throngs 
Swiftly  their  light  feet  play, 

Cadent  to  mellow  songs. 

Now  old  Gray-Beard  must  flee 
Quite  as  fast  as  may  be. 
Could  they  only  but  catch, 
How  they'd  tease  the  cross  wretch — 
9 


130  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIRDS. 

Smother  him  in  perfumes 
Till  their  sweets  made  him  faint, 

Then  bedizen  his  plumes 

With  such  gay  things — and  quaint— 

As  Media,  lamb's  tongue, 

The  crocus,  and  star-eye, 
Till  his  sleet-scales  were  hung 

With  each  bright  early  dye. 

IX. 

When  with  vines  they  had  bound  him, 
Then  in  mocking  dance  round  him, 
Till  spring  their  maiden  queen  come — 
We  know  by  the  swelling  hum. 

That  she  has  just  lifted  one  glorious  wing, 

As  eagles  pause  on  the  stoop  for  a  flight, 
And  the  flashes  its  burnished  hues  outfling 

Gild  first  like  morning  the  hill-tops  with  light ; 
Soon  now,  the  blaze  of  that  splendor  gleaming — 

From  each  golden  feather  fully  outspread, — 
Down  through  valleys,  and  cold  shadows  beaming, 

Will  the  warm  glow,  of  her  presence  be  shed ! — 
Away  on  her  beautiful  flight  at  last, 
Sailing  the  arrowy  breeze  she  has  past. 

x. 

She  is  chasing  Old  Winter — a  merry  chase, 
And  the  roused  earth  shouts  to  the  clattering  race. 
She  is  wanting  to  kiss  Old  Frosty,  I  ween, 
But  bachelors  never  a-kissing  are  seen ! 

They  were  always  so  silly, 
And  their  blue  lips  so  chilly, 


SONG  OF  THE   CHILDKEN  ABOUT  SPEING.  131 

They  never  could  stand  to  be  wooed ; 

But  she'd  kiss  him  and  fan  him, 

'Till  her  warm  breath  unman  him, 
And  then  that  he  tarried  he  rued. 

XL 

She  would  break  his  chains, 

Unlock  all  the  tides, 
And  let  the  glad  streamlets  go ; 

All  the  frozen  veins 

"Where  the  earth-blood  glides 
Awaken  to  joyous  flow. 

Till  that  gentle  race, 

The  quaint  fairies  dress 
That  shrank  from  his  frosty  spite, 

Upturn  each  sweet  face 

To  her  beams'  caress, 
And  laugh  in  the  new  world's  light. 

And  those  flashing  things, 

With  their  souls  all  song, 
That  went  like  dreams  when  he  came, 

With  gay  clamorings, 

A  sweet  noisy  throng, 
Come  back  like  arrows  of  flame. 

And  the  meek  blue  bird 

We  love  far  the  best, 
For  he  stayed  while  dark  hours  frowned, 

In  low  song  is  heard 

More  soft  than  the  rest, 
That  melts  with  a  wind-harp's  sound. 

And,  accepted  king 
Of  all  the  earth-choir, 


132  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIKDS. 

The  bold  wizzard  mocker  swells 

In  keen  notes  that  cling 

Bound  the  brain  like  fire, 
It's  loud  clear  melodious  spells. 

Until  all  the  air 

Is  one  harmonic, 
And  the  winds  put  music  on, 

And  the  echoes  bear 

Up  the  twice  told  glee, 
Until  fainter — more  faint  it  is  gone. 

XII. 

A  crusty  old  gray -beard  this  winter  must  be 
When  a  maiden  comes  after, 
With  her  blithe  songs  and  laughter, 

And  wooes  him 

And  sues  him, 
1"  tarry  and  travel  with  her, 
To  be  hurried  and  flurried 
And  mightily  worried, 
To  collect  his  blue-noses  and  go. 
And  sure  a  miscief  maiden  this  Spring  must  be 
To  love  an  old  Crusty  so. 

XIII. 

Go  where  he  will, 
She  follows  him  still, 
Over  far  mountain  and  forest  and  dale, 

Healing  with  love  where  he  wounds  with  hate  ; 
With  gentle  breath  quelling  his  stormy  rail, 

Then  tarrying  awhile  till  the  song-bird's  mate 
And  the  chiding  call  of  the  wedded  quail 

Is  telling  slow  summer  he  cannot  wait 
To  haste  and  hide  his  low  nest  in  her  veil. 

Then  sure  and  swift  as  the  pinions  of  fate, 


SONG  OF  THE  CHILDREN  ABOUT  SPRING.  133 

Sweeps  on  once  again  till  the  creaking  wail 

Out  from  the  ice-coated  woods  tells  the  tale, 
How  the  old  fellow  is  lording  in  state. 

Again  her  kiss  thaws  through  his  frosty  mail, 
Again  she  strews  flowers  where  he  had  strewn  hail. 
Till  routed  and  scouted 
While  all  the  earth  shouted, 
In  a  terrible  fright 
The  old  fellow  takes  flight, 
Clang  !  clanging  away  on  his  sleety  wings, 
Nor  dares  he  to  alight 
Till  he  comes  where  long  night 
Her  sable  curtain  o'er  dreary  land  flings. 


CHAPTER   VI. 

DRAGGING     THE     SEINE; 

OE,    A   FISH   FRY   IN   KENTUCKY. 

FIFTEEN  years  ago,  a  Kentucky  fish-fry  was  one  of  the  oc- 
casions to  date  from.  Like  the  New  England  clam  bakes, 
they  were  characteristic  local  scenes,  in  which  you  saw  more 
of  the  heart  of  the  people  in  a  few  hours,  than  you  might, 
under  other  circumstances,  in  years. 

We  had  other  out-door  festivals,  to  be  sure,  which  were 
equally  characteristic  of  time,  place  and  people,  but  they 
were  more  public  and  miscellaneous — such  as  the  barbecue, 
which  was  usually  given  in  honor  of  some  political  person 
or  event,  and  to  which  all  classes  were  invited  to  join  in 
festivities  on  a  grand  scale,  and  when  oxen  were  roasted 
whole. 

Then  there  was  the  bran  dance,  which — commencing  with 
the  barbacued  feast — wound  up  with  a  grand  dance  upon  the 
rolled  earth,  sprinkled  with  bran  beneath  the  arbors — and  in 
which  everybody,  high  or  low,  participated  with  a  reckless 
abandon  of  jollity.  The  confused  jumble  of  all  classes  in 
this  rude  festival,  made  it  more  an  occasion  for  roystering 
fun  than  refined  enjoyment,  and  although  forty  years  ago 
they  were  participated  in  by  our  ladies,  and  I  remember  well 
hearing  my  aunt  and  mother  tell,  many  times,  of  dancing 
with  the  young  Harry  Clay  at  the  bran  dance,  yet  they  grad- 
ually fell  into  disuse  by  the  more  refined. 


DKAGGING  THE   SEINE.  135 

By  the  way,  I  shall  never  forget  the  first  picture  of  Mr. 
Clay  at  one  of  these  dances,  as  drawn  by  my  mother  to  my 
eager  and  boyish  questioning.  He  was  then,  for  the  first 
time,  a  candidate  for  the  Legislature,  and,  of  course,  very 
youthful,  and  "  dressed  like  a  young  demagogue,"  as  she 
laughingly  used  to  say,  in  the  home-made  jeans  cloth  woven 
by  the  wives  of  the  farmers  of  Kentucky. 

It  was  considered  that  this  dress  was  to  propitiate  the  stout 
dames  and  ruddy-cheeked  daughters  of  his  constituents ;  and 
as  the  gentlemen  of  that  day  were  excessively  fastidious  in 
their  dress,  and  wore  it  of  English  cloth,  and  much  more 
ornate  and  rich  than  now-a-days,  the  plainness  of  Mr.  Clay's 
garb  was  laughed  at  among  the  young  people  of  his  own 
class,  as  an  affectation.  Nothing  regardful  of  their  sneers, 
the  youthful  politician,  with  his  tall,  thin  figure,  his  graceful 
bow  and  fascinating  smile,  glided  among  the  people,  tri- 
umphantly winning  everywhere  the  frank  suffrages  of  simple 
and  honest  hearts. 

They  laughed,  but  he  won — and  a  suit  of  that  same  Ken- 
tucky jeans  has,  since,  consistently  graced  many  a  high  po- 
sition and  noble  circle,  proudly  worn  by  the  older  "  dema- 
gogue" (perhaps?)  in  testimonial  of  his  respect  for  that 
homely  and  honest  constituency.  It  was,  then,  something 
of  a  sharp  joke  among  the  social  peers  of  the  rising  politi- 
cian, to  accuse  him  of  playing  the  demagogue  in  this  earliest 
and  manly  expression  of  his  preference  for  that  home  pro- 
tective policy,  which  has  now  become  one  of  the  chiefest 
and  most  honorable  distinctions  of  the  great  statesman's  re- 
putation. 

While  these  more  important  festivals  had  all  a  political  or 
public  end,  the  fish-fry  was  entirely  a  social  affair ;  a  gath- 
ering of  friends  and  equals  for  the  purposes  of  out-door  en- 
joyment. The  event  was  usually  talked  of  for  a  week  or 
so,  and,  on  one  occasion  which  I  particularly  remember,  the 
invitations  to  attend  had  been  circulated  by  a  sort  of  free- 
masonry, known  amoDg  the  elect,  the  responsible  source  of 


136  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIEDS. 

which  it  would  have  been  .difficult  to  trace  directly,  though 
the  fact  that  a  large  spring  near  the  plantation  of  one  of  our 
well-known,  hospitable,  country  gentlemen,  had  been  selected 
as  the  scene  of  the  festival,  was  quite  endorsement  enough 
on  that  score. 

Before  the  arrival  of  the  important  day,  all  the  minor  pre- 
parations of  gallantry  had  been  made,  the  various  parties 
of  young  men  and  girls  having  paired  off,  for  the  ride  out 
to  the  spring — which  was  seven  miles  distant — and  satisfac- 
torily adjusted  all  other  preliminaries,  for  the  occasion.  The 
gentry  of  both  sexes  from  the  town,  and  from  the  principal 
plantations  for  miles  around,  commenced  gathering  from 
every  direction,  and  at  an  early  hour  on  the  auspicious  morn- 
ing, moved  towards  the  place  of  meeting. 

The  party  of  which  I  made  one,  consisted  of  four  or  five 

of  the  gayest  and  handsomest  girls  of  our  town  of  H , 

with  gallants  "  to  match  " — if  I  may  be  permitted  the  modest 
insinuation  I  Most  of  us  were  mounted  on  the  dashing  and 
spirited  saddle-horses  peculiar  to  our  State,  and,  with  the 
fearless  command  of  accustomed  riders,  we  gave  way  to  our 
hilarious  mood,  and  kept  them  up  to  their  metal.  Our  girls 
usually  ride  with  a  boldness  and  a  skill  approached  only  by 
the  daughters  of  the  English  country  gentlemen.  Those 
who  preferred  a  more  staid  gait,  fell  back  with  the  rear  guard 
of  the  party,  which  consisted,  principally,  of  elderly  gentle- 
men, the  fathers  of  these  young  girls,  and  other  gray-haired 
citizens  who  yet  loved  fan  and  good  things. 

It  was  a  delicious  spring  morning,  and  our  hearts  bounded 
merrily  with  the  elastic  movement  of  our  horses.  Our  road 
was  literally  over  flowers,  for  the  "barrens,"  through  which 
we  swept,  form  the  richest  natural  gardens  in  the  world — far 
more  varied  and  chastely  beautiful  than  the  prairies.  The 
feet  of  our  horses  were  stained  at  every  stride  with  the  red 
juice  of  wild  strawberries,  that  crouched  in  luscious  clusters 
beneath  the  tinted  shadows  of  the  over-hanging  flowers,  and 
the  fresh,  soft  breeze  bore  up  to  us  the  delicate  aroma  of 


DRAGGING  THE  SEINE.  137 

the  crushed  fruit  mingled  with  the  sweet  forgiveness  of  their 
meek  guardians,  we  thus  rudely  trampled  in  a  doubly  per- 
fumed death.  The  sense  was  intoxicated  in  this  delicious 
air,  until  we  laughed,  and  sang,  and  said,  we  knew  not  what 
— shouted  and  screamed,  and  bounded  our  snorting  horses 
wildly  over  and  through  these  scented  glories  of  the  fresh- 
ened earth,  in  a  sort  of  delirious  joy,  which  their  game  and 
high-bred  natures  could  fully  share.  Other  parties  joined 
us  on  the  way,  and,  together,  we  formed  a  noisy  company 
that  mellow  morning  as  we  darted,  one  after  another,  into 
the  bridle-path  that  led  to  the  spring,  beneath  a  grove  upon 
the  banks  of  a  little  river. 

Here  we  were  greeted  with  shouts  of  welcome,  as  we  burst 
in  view  of  a  pretty  basin,  overhung  by  a  huge  mossy  rock, 
and  shaded  with  tall  trees,  beneath  which,  and  around  the 
spring,  were  gathered  some  ten  or  twelve  of  the  party  who  had 
arrived  before  us.  The  gentlemanly  planter  came  forward 
with  a  hearty  greeting  for  each,  and  all  was  for  a  few  mo- 
ments the  bustle  of  dismountings,  of  salutations,  &c. 

My  lady  cared  for — the  horses  delivered  to  the  charge  of 
the  grinning  and  delighted  slaves  of  the  plantation,  we  had 
time  to  look  around.  It  was  a  lovely  spot  that  had  been 
chosen,  everything  about  it  looked  as  wild  as  when  the 
thirsty  Indian,  in  undisputed  lordship  here,  had  come  to  lie 
down  by  the  cold  waters  for  his  noonday  draught. 

The  plantation  was  several  miles  distant ;  but  our  active 
host  had  already  commenced  preparations  for  our  reception, 
as  the  blazing  fire,  the  implements  of  cookery,  the  great  bas- 
kets with  mysterious  covers,  scattered  around,  most  plainly 
showed.  A  droll-looking  old  mulatto,  with  shirt  sleeves 
rolled  up  and  knife  in  hand,  proclaimed  himself,  by  his  au- 
thoritative demeanor,  the  chief  cook  and  master  of  culinary 
ceremonies  for  the  day.  This  was  for  him  a  glorious  occa- 
sion ;  an  event  of  mighty  import ;  and  he  demeaned  himself 
accordingly.  Group  after  group  arrived  and  dismounted, 
amidst  a  gay  clatter  of  tongues,  and  now  some  thirty  persons 


138  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIKDS. 

had  collected.  The  ladies  very  soon  rid  themselves  of  their 
now  superfluous  bonnets,  shawls,  gloves,  &c.,  while  we,  their 
unfortunate  gallants,  were  permitted  but  little  time  to  con- 
gratulate them  upon  the  comforts  of  this  disembarrassment, 
and  their  promised  repose  in  the  cool  shade,  for  the  jovial 
voice  of  our  host  promptly  recalled  us  to  a  sense  of  service 
imposed  upon  us  for  the  morning  by  the  usage  of  the  occa- 
sion. 

"  Come,  boys !  The  girls  can  take  care  of  themselves 
now.  The  seine's  all  ready  down  at  the  mill.  Mount! 
Mount !" 

This  imperative  summons  was  not  very  promptly  obeyed, 
for  young  men  would,  naturally,  after  such  a  ride,  be  in  no 
great  hurry  to  exchange  the  exhilaration  which  deliciously 
lingered  under  the  warm  glances  of  their  fair  companions, 
for  a  cold  plunge  into  the  river  to  drag  the  seine  for  fish. 
This  was  our  duty,  and  the  young  girls  teazingly  assured  us 
that  they  would  not  touch  or  serve  up  a  single  mouthful  for 
our  dinners,  if  we  did  not  drag  the  seine  and  catch  the  fish 
ourselves.  But  we  managed  to  find  consolation  in  the  fact, 
that,  if  we  were  compelled  to  catch  the  fish,  they  had  to 
cook  them  under  old  Jim's  supervision,  and  wait  on  us  at 
dinner  too. 

With  abundant  jokes  and  laughter  at  this  quaint  exchange 
of  labor  and  offices,  which  usage  exacted  for  the  day,  we 
tore  ourselves  reluctantly  away  at  last,  as  our  impatient  host 
shouted,  amidst  peals  of  laughter — 

"  Come,  boys,  come !  You  are  worse  than  Pagans — for 
they  were  willing  to  meet  death  with  the  hope  of  being 
served  by  Houries  in  the  other  world,  while  you  are  afraid 
to  meet  a  little  ducking,  with  the  same  prospect  of  being 
waited  upon  by  them  at  dinner  time  in  this  !" 

"  Ha  1  ha  1  that  will  do  !  Let  us  be  off,  as  we  are  Chris- 
tians I"  Off  we  were  at  a  sharp  gallop,  led  by  the  Planter, 
who,  in  about  fifteen  minutes,  wheeled  into  a  country  road, 
which  soon  led  us  down  the  steep  bank  to  a  ford  below 


DRAGGING  THE   SEINE.  139 

an  old  mill.  Here  some  of  his  negroes  were  gathered  about 
the  net,  which  lay  stretched  along  the  sand,  and  they  sprang 
to  our  horses,  as  we  dismounted  rapidly. 

"  JSTow,"  called  out  the  jolly  Planter,  "  off  with  your  dandy 
coats,  boys.  Strip  off  your  fine  feathers!  quick! — every 
mother's  son  of  you.  Peel  for  your  work — you've  had  play 
enough !" 

Now  there  was  a  hurried  scene  of  preparation,  and  now  it 
became  apparent  that  there  were  a  good  many  saddle-bags 
thrown  across  the  saddles  of  the  young  men,  and  from  their 
depths  were  hauled  forth  rude  suits  of  cast-off  clothing,  which 
were  to  supply  the  place  of  our  "  dandy  suits." 

The  transfer  was  made  with  becoming  rapidity.  Our  fine 
clothes  were  passed  over  to  the  safe  keeping  of  the  elderly 
gents  of  the  party,  whose  duty  it  was  to  carry  them  for  us 
along  the  banks,  as  well  as  to  take  charge  of  the  fish,  when 
any  had  been  caught.  Old  shoes  had  followed  the  old  clothes 
from  their  receptacles,  and  now  we  stood  equipped  in  full — 
a  pocket-handkerchief  tied  around  the  head,  a  pair  of  old 
shoes  to  protect  our  feet  from  the  sharp  stones  of  the  river 
bottom,  a  pair  of  pants  tied  about  the  waist,  and  a  shirt  to 
shield  our  shoulders  from  the  scorching  sun.  With  shud- 
dering steps  we  slowly  waded  in,  bearing  the  net.  It  was 
two  miles,  by  the  river,  up  to  the  spring — and  through  holes 
and  shallows,  rapids  or  eddies,  we  were  expected  to  drag 
this  seine,  which  was  full  forty  feet  in  length  by  four  in 
depth.  A  heavy  chain  sinker  was  attached  along  the  whole 
length  to  the  bottom,  while  at  the  two  ends  were  the  stout 
upright  poles,  by  which  the  ends  were  to  be  held  on  to  the 
bottom  and  to  be  dragged. 

The  two  strongest  and  most  experienced  of  the  party  took 
hold  of  these  poles,  with  which  they  stretched  the  seine  be- 
tween them  across  the  river,  while  the  rest  of  us  took  our 
stations  at  short  intervals  in  the  rear  to  "  mind  the  floats" — 
that  is,  when  the  sinking  of  one  of  the  large  cork  floats 
strung  along  the  top  of  the  seine  showed  that  the  chain 


140  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIRDS. 

sinker  below  had  dragged  against  some  obstruction  on  the 
bottom,  it  was  the  business  of  the  nearest  float  tender  to 
plunge  head  and  shoulders,  if  necessary,  beneath  the  water, 
and  carefully  remove  the  obstruction  without  lifting  the 
sinker  chain  enough  to  let  any  fish  that  might  be  enclosed, 
escape  underneath — then  the  seine  could  move  on  again. 

The  river  was  broken  up  into  deep  holes,  to  which  the 
fish  resort  immediately  on  any  disturbance,  but  above  and 
below  these  holes,  there  was  usually  a  shallow — "  ripple"  as 
it  is  called — and  while  the  seiners  commenced  to  sweep  the 
hole  from  the  lower  extremity  or  shallow,  the  supernumerary 
boys  or  negroes  were  detailed  above  to  form  a  line  across  the 
ripple  there,  and  by  lashing  the  water  and  otherwise  making 
a  great  noise,  they  would  prevent  the  larger  fish  from  escap* 
ing  to  the  holes  above. 

Thus,  as  the  long  seine  stretched  from  bank  to  bank,  the 
fish  were  entirely  enclosed  as  it  advanced  towards  the  upper 
end  of  the  hole,  and  here  the  side  with  the  smoothest  shelv- 
ing bank  having  been  selected  for  "  landing,"  the  pole-carrier 
on  that  side  would  stand  fast  with  his  pole  at  the  edge  of  the 
water,  and  then  came  the  exciting  moment,  as  the  pole  man 
at  the  other  extremity  commenced  rapidly  sweeping  round 
with  his  wing  to  close  upon  this  one. 

The  critical  instant  has  arrived.  The  boys  dash  to  and  fro 
along  the  shallow,  yelling  like  wild  Indians  to  frighten  the 
fish  back  towards  the  closing  crescent,  while  the  excited 
pole-man  upon  whose  rapid  movement  most  depends  now, 
tugs  at  the  heavy  net,  with  body  eagerly  bent  forward,  while 
the  float-tenders  tread  close  upon  their  charge  in  apprehen- 
sion lest  some  ill  starred  snag  may  hang  the  drag — now,  of 
all  times,  just  when  lifting  it  an  inch  too  much  over  the  ob- 
struction, may  lose  them  the  whole  results  of  this  haul — and 
unlucky  is  he  indeed,  if,  at  the  thrilling  moment  when  the 
pole-man,  having  got  through  the  deep  water,  as  he  closes 
towards  his  pivot-man,  now  starts  into  a  desperate  rush,  to 
close  up  amidst  the  excited  shouts  of  all,  and  finds  himself 


DRAGGING  THE  SEINE.  141 

jerked  back  by  the  hanging  of  the  net ! — the  poor  float  man 
nearest  is  literally  deafened  by  the  universal  howl  of  execra- 
tions, as  if  it  were  his  fault  that  the  snag  was  there — and 
shouted  admonition  to  "  make  haste  !" 

"  Take  care  I"  "  don't  let  them  get  out !"  "  you  are  lifting 
the  sink  too  high  I"  "  hurry,  hurrry  !"  until  he  is  so  confused 
that  he  scarcely  knows  what  he  does — and  looking  about 
him  as  he  stoops  to  obey  all  these  injunctions  in  a  second,  is 
frightened  still  farther  at  the  ferocious  faces  scowling  upon 
him  as  if  eager  for  his  very  life  blood.  Lucky  is  he  if  he 
loosens  the  net  without  much  delay  in  the  face  of  all  this, 
for  the  next  minute  the  landing  is  effected,  and  all  the  ex- 
citement is  diverted  from  his  devoted  head  by  the  sight  of 
the  glittering  spoil  dragged  suddenly,  flashing  and  leaping  to 
the  sunlight. 

The  fish  are  at  once  secured  in  baskets,  carried  by  the  el- 
ders on  one  arm,  while  the  other  bears  across  it  a  suit  or  two 
of  clothes,  or  pairs  of  boots ;  and  now  the  pent  up  breaths 
of  excitement  are  drawn,  and  laughter  and  pleasant  gibes 
relax  the  ferocious  scowls  of  a  moment  since — while  the  net 
is  being  freed  from  the  leaves  and  twigs  that  it  had  gathered, 
and  sundry  useless  monsters  of  mud-cats,  hard-shell  terra- 
pins, or  snapping-turtles,  &c.,  are  being  thrown  back  into  the 
water  preparatory  for  another  haul. 

Now  the  seine  is  carried  on  our  shoulders  across  the  "  ripp," 
or  ripple  above,  to  the  next  hole — the  boys  sent  on  again  to 
the  "  ripp  "  beyond  that,  and  the  seine  spread  out  again,  is 
dropped  once  more  into  the  deep  water. 

There  had  been  a  heavy  Spring  freshet  lately,  and,  now 
that  it  had  just  subsided,  the  fish  which  always  ascend  the 
small  streams  at  such  times,  had  been  left  behind  in  the  holes 
in  great  numbers.  The  rule  is,  the  deeper  the  hole,  the 
larger  and  finer  the  fish ;  and  sometimes  we  were  plunged 
in  over  our  heads  by  a  single  step,  to  rise  sputtering  and 
floundering,  amidst  the  general  shouts  of  laughter  at  the 
mishap. 


142  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIEDS. 

But  these  unceremonious  duckings  were  amply  compen- 
sated by  the  more  abundant  reward  of  such  a  "  drag  ;"  for, 
great  was  the  excitement  when,  as  the  wings  began  to  close, 
we  saw  the  quick  gleams,  like  those  of  sword  blades,  up  the 
deep  green  water,  of  the  long-bodied  pike,  which  were  be- 
coming alarmed,  and  then,  as  we  rushed  the  net  on  them,  one 
would  dart  swiftly  upwards,  and  flashing  an  instant  in  the 
air,  pass  clear  over  the  floats,  unless  caught  by  the  ready 
hand  of  a  float  tender. 

Then  such  clamors  of  approval  at  the  feat,  from  the  shore, 
mingled  with  the  cries  of  warning  as  another  went  shining 
after  and  over,  followed  by  a  desperate  rush  of  the  strong 
and  headlong  white  trout,  or  rather,  perch,  some  of  them 
leaping  a  full  yard  straight  up  into  the  sunlight,  and  others 
lashing  the  water  in  furious  struggles  to  burst  their  way 
through  the  meshes  of  the  net. 

What  a  pell-mell  of  rushing,  spattering,  snatching,  scream- 
ing and  laughing,  that  landing  was  !  Many  of  the  finest  fish 
escaped  in  the  flurry,  as  is  always  the  case  in  this  kind  of 
sport — as  it  is  impossible  to  prevent  the  bold  leaps  of  the 
white  trout  and  pike.  The  succors,  too,  make  their  escape 
frequently  in  this  manner,  and  some  of  the  more  active  va- 
rieties of  the  perch — of  which  the  fish  I  have  called  the 
white  trout  is  the  most  remarkable.  We  have,  indeed,  no 
true  trout  in  our  western  rivers ;  but  the  habits  of  this  mag- 
nificent fish  are  so  closely  allied  to  those  of  that  noble  family, 
that  the  name  is  generally  yielded  to  it  in  deference.  The 
other  fish  thus  taken,  are  the  blue-cat,  the  black  and  golden 
perch,  along  with  the  glistening  silver-side,  and  many  simi- 
lar varieties.  The  soft-shell  turtle  is  frequently  captured  and 
recognized  as  a  dainty. 

Thus  we  continued,  with  varying  success,  to  drag  all  the 
holes  of  the  river,  until  the  immediate  neighborhood  of  the 
spring  had  been  reached.  By  this  time  we  were  tired  enough 
and  the  thought  of  dinner  was  a  very  pleasant  one.  The 
baskets  of  fish  had  been  regularly,  after  each  successful  drag, 


DRAGGING  THE   SEINE.  143 

forwarded  to  the  spring  to  be  cared  for  by  the  ladies ;  and 
now,  as  we  crawled,  weary  and  dripping,  forth  to  dress  our- 
selves, under  the  protecting  bank,  we  blessed  our  stars  that 
this  "  fun  "  was  over,  and  that  our  expectant  Houries  had 
something  more  substantial  on  hand  awaiting  us  than  am- 
brosia. 

Our  hurried  toilets  made  as  best  we  might,  we  found  our 
way  to  the  scene  of  anticipated  reward,  guided  thither  by 
the  smell  of  cooking  fish,  which  "  burdened  all  the  air  "  with 
an  aroma  far  more  luscious  to  us  now  in  our  ravenous  mood 
than  that  of  all  the  flowers  we  had  crushed  in  our  morning 
ride. 

Every  one  must  remember,  that  long  exposure  to  the 
effects  of  cold  water  is  apt  to  provoke  a  most  unpoetical  ap- 
petite. Ah  !  how  genial  was  the  merry  greeting  we  received 
— how  romantic  seemed  the  flushed  cheeks  of  our  cooking 
belles,  and  when  fairly  seated  on  the  green  sod  for  our  table, 
how  far  more  ethereal  seemed  their  light  forms  than  the  Pa- 
gan Houries,  as  partly  enwreathed  in  the  smoke  of  Jim's 
great  fire,  they  received  from  his  lordly  hand  the  steaming 
dishes,  and  bore  them  with  divinest  smiles,  and  fingers  rose- 
tipped,  like  those  of  so  many  auroras,  by  the  heat,  to  place 
them  before  us  !  Ah !  tell  it  not  to  heathens  what  a  Para- 
dise was  thus  made  for  us  of  that  scene,  or  all  Christendom 
will  surely  be  in  danger  from  overrunning  hordes  of  Infidels 
seeking  to  realize  this  suprcmest  mundane  bliss — the  Dinner 
at  a  Fish  Fry  ! 


CHAPTER   VII. 

ANALOGIES    AND    SIMILITUDES: 

BIRDS   AND   POETS   ILLUSTRATING   EACH   OTHER. 

"We  will  entangle  buds,  and  flowers,  and  beams, 
Which  twinkle  on  the  fountain's  brim,  and  make 
Strange  combinations  out  of  common  things." 

PROMETHEUS  UNBOUND. 

"Oft  on  the  dappled  turf,  at  ease 
I  sit,  and  play  with  similies— 
Loose  types  of  Things  through  all  degrees." 

WORDSWORTH — To  A  DAISY. 

WE  love  our  own  face  in  a  mirror,  and,  like  a  second  Nar- 
cissus, we  grow  amorous  over  it,  shadowed  in  the  burnished 
lapsing  of  a  fountain — we  love  the  stars  sleeping  in  deep 
waters,  too,  (happy  association !)  and  the  pageantry  of  cloud, 
and  rock,  and  tree,  reversed  in  a  still,  liquid  sky — in  a  word, 
we  love  all  similitudes ! 

Perhaps  this  is  because  they  illustrate  to  us  a  power  of  re- 
production external  to  ourselves,  and  this  is  such  an  ap- 
proach to  that  creative  faculty  which  belongs  to  the  "  big 
imagination  "  in  us,  that,  having  no  jealousy  in  our  temper, 
we  are  charmed  to  see,  even  in  "  dumb  nature,"  something 
like  a  rivalry  of  this  "  bright  particular  " — gift — we  own. 

In  truth,  there  is  something  worth  following  up  in  this 
idea.  We  should  like  to  see  the  painter  or  the  poet  who 
could  ever  produce  a  landscape  so  cunningly,  even  to  the 
last  minute  tracery  of  its  lines  and  shades,  as  we  have  seen 
the  unruffled  surface  of  a  lake  do  it  some  clear,  calm  morn- 


BIRDS  AND   POETS.  145 

ing  before  sunrise.  Not  one  twisted  fibre  of  the  grass,  one 
knotted  eccentric  twig,  one  blue-eyed,  dewy -lipped  violet  but 
hung  there — upside  down,  to  be  sure — but  perfect  as  it  came 
from  God's  hand. 

"  What  is  this?  Does  it  not  mock  our  pride  of  art,  and 
shame  its  dedicated  altars  ?" 

"  It  is  God's  handiwork  through  his  natural  laws  !" 

"  Ah  !  But  the  picture  is  not  always  there.  Does  God 
(in  reverence)  with  his  own  personal  hand  paint  the  land- 
scape in  the  lake  whenever  it  is  seen  ?  Is  it  a  special  act  ?" 

"  No ;  it  is  consequential  upon  an  arrangement  of  laws 
fixed  since  the  birth  of  time." 

"  You  are  smiling !  was  that  smile  now  upon  your  face 
pre-ordained  since  the  same  period  ?" 

"  So  far  as  we  know,  it  was,  equally  with  the  other,  conse- 
quential." 

"That  smile  was  a  physical  expression  of  a  mental  con- 
dition or  humor  in  yourself,  was  it  not  ?" 

"Ay." 

"  It  might  have  been  a  frown,  or  varied  by  other  external 
modification  ?" 

"Ay." 

"  Might  not  the  landscape  in  the  lake  have  been  a  storm- 
shaken  blurr  ?" 

"  Granted." 

"Is  it  not  quite  as  ' consequential,'  then,  that  earth  has  her 
physical  expressions  of  certain  conditions  and  humors  of 
the  vital  force  in  her  which  are  affected  by  external  rela- 
tions?" 

"  What  external  relations  can  you  mean  ?" 

"  First,  those  to  her  solar  system  ;  next,  those  to  the  other 
systems  which  make  up  the  universe.  These  relations  may 
determine  in  her  all  the  action  of  elemental  expression — va- 
riations of  the  seasons,  &c.,  &c." 

"Pshaw!  fogmatic!" 

"  Guilty ;  but  still,  we  'love  similitudes.'  " 

10 


146  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIRDS. 

It  is  an  old  fancy  of  that  science  of  seeing  deepest  into 
the  millstone,  called  Metaphysical  Philosophy,  that  the  earth 
is  an  animal — a  living  thing — of  course  insensate  brute  and 
huge,  to  our  apprehension,  but  to  the  vision  of  Higher  Intel- 
ligences an  apparelled  creature  in  its  robes  of  cloud  and  light 
— swung  on  its  orbed  circuit,  amid  travelling  peers :  that  to 
them  its  vast  calm  front  must  be  forever  pregnant  with  a 
meaning  of  its  own ;  and  they  can,  to  "  the  dumbness  of  its 
very  gesture,"  interpret ;  that  it  has  articulations,  "joints 
and  motives  "  to  its  body,  which  must  move,  act  and  obey 
the  impulse  of  the  life  within  it.  This  active  impulse — call 
it  the  galvanic  fluid,  or  the  principle  of  life — lives  through 
and  animates  its  own  great  bulk,  as  well  as  through  every 
modification  of  its  aggregate  mass  which  we  see  as  forms, 
and  know  as  existences : 

"  One  sun  illumines  heaven,  one  spirit  vast 
With  life  and  love  makes  chaos  ever  new." 

That  this  sphered  creature  must  have  been  itself  in  chaos 
a  thought  projected  out  of  the  mind  of  God — the  base  and 
original  of  the  being  of  which  was  a  self-modifying  vital 
principle. 

This  vital  force  was  independent  of,  and  prior  to,  all  or- 
ganization ;  yet  the  law  of  its  energies  was  the  creative  or 
self-formative — so  that,  if  it  acted  through  itself  at  all,  it  must 
act  creatively — plastically — expressing  this  action  in  forms, 
the  combinations  of  its  own  constituents. 

Mark  you ;  the  gift  of  this  creative  energy  was  from  God, 
who  gave  it  its  laws,  making  it  through  them  self-acting. 

In  a  word,  His  higher  energy  produced  here  a  remote 
modification  of  some  one  thought  or  phase  of  His  own  Eter- 
nal might ;  and  this  we  call — and  it  is  to  us — creative. 

The  fact  of  its  being  an  energy  sustained  from  God,  im- 
plies the  necessity  of  action,  and  this  action  constitutes  its 
development  of  itself — its  entity. 


BIKDS  AND   POETS.  147 

That  this  entity  must  be  infinitely  remote  from  the  posi- 
tive being  of  God  is  self-evident. 

"  As  if  the  cause  of  life  could  think  and  live." 

God's  being  must  be  something  immeasurably  beyond  the 
ideas  of  thinking  and  living,  as  they  appear  to  us — for  how 
could  like  create  its  like  ?  It  may  pro-CTe&le — creation  is  ab- 
solute and  beyond  this ;  the  power  of  pro-creation  is  from 
it  an  endowment :  so  that  in  applying  the  term  creativeness 
to  any  being  under  God,  we  must  be  understood  as  using  it 
in  the  sense  of  production  or  projection  out  of  the  laws  of 
its  own  life. 

We  are  no 

"  Magian  with  his  powerful  wand," 

setting  up  to  reveal,  or  be  doctrinal  of  that  which  may  not 
be  known ;  but  yet,  we  protest  "  we  love  similitudes,"  and 
are  fain  to  test  how  far  they  may  playfully  and  safely  carry 
us  ;  for  we  mean  to  demonstrate  (save  the  mark  !)  that  these 
Birds  of  which  we  are  to  treat  are  no  less  than  the  "  winged 
words  "  of  this  Earth's  Poetry  I 

Do  they  not  express  the  supremest  graces  of  a  purely  sen- 
suous life — of  action — which  we  have  shown  to  be  a  neces- 
sity of  that  vital  energy  permeating  the  globe  and  all  that  is 
therein  ? 

Now  let  us  see  how  we  can  make  our  Earth  a  Poet — to 
discourse  in  sweet  living  numbers  !  This  must  be  compara- 
tively with  Man,  of  course.  There  are,  as  we  have  before 
said,  two  souls ;  Man  possesses  a  soul — a  peculiar  energy, 
"  breathed  into  his  nostrils  the  breath  of  life  " — Eternal  life, 
higher  than  the  life  of  the  Earth,  and  to  which  its  vital  prin- 
ciple has  been  given  as  a  medium. 

Then,  as  the  soul  is  man's  highest  vitality,  why  may  not 
the  Principle  of  Life,  which  is  to  the  Earth  its  highest  vi- 
tality, be  to  it  the  soul — 

'  The  lightning  of  its  being," 


148  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIKDS. 

yet  a  lightning  the  fountain  of  which  may  be  the  sun,  while 
the  eternity  of  God's  own  life  may  be  the  source  of  that 
higher  soul  in  man. 

His  soul  is  creative,  and  peoples  the  chambers  of  its  im- 
agery with  rare  and  gorgeous  creatures.  Then  why  may  it 
not  be — as  we  have  shown  it  must,  from  the  necessities  of  its 
origin  and  existence — that  this  lower  or  Earth  Soul  is  like- 
wise creative,  and  all  things  that  it  contains,  the  expression 
of  this  self-exercised,  self-modifying  power,  in  thoughts  that 
walk,  run,  creep,  are  still,  or  fly  ? 

A  union  of  the  two  energies,  the  Spiritual  and  Sensuous, 
seems  to  have  been  necessary  to  the  consummation  of  things 
as  they  are. 

The  purely  Spiritual  could  know  nothing  of  the  Sensuous, 
except  as  an  abstract  idea  ;  nor  could  the  purely  Sensuous 
know  the  Spiritual  at  all,  except  through  vague  and  unde- 
fined images  of  power ;  and  this  very  necessity  for  the  inter- 
position of  an  image  precludes  the  possibility  of  any  knowl- 
edge of  its  essence. 

Hence  it  appears  to  us,  that  the  life  of  the  Sensuous  must 
have  been  confined  to  simple  consciousness — a  mere  direct 
knowledge  of  external  things,  as  they  appealed  to  its  senses, 
effected  its  organization ;  while  its  being,  to  the  Spiritual,  was 
only  a  cold  and  lifeless  reflex,  such  as  we  have  described  the 
inverted  landscape  in  the  lake  to  have  been. 

Now  we  fancy  that,  to  angelic  vision,  which  alone,  under 
God,  regarded  things  from  the  Universe  as  a  point  of  view, 
our  world  must  have  hung  upon  space  about  as  unnaturally 
as  that  morning  picture  did,  and  all  its  action  have  seemed 
as  the  shadow  of  a  Bird  passing  over  it  would  have  done  to 
us  from  our  point  of  view. 


-The  Daedal  earth, 


That  island  in  the  ocean  of  the  world, 
Hung  in  its  cloud  of  all  sustaining  air ; 
But  this  divinest  universe 
Was  yet  a  chaos  and  a  curse, 


BIRDS  AND   POETS,  149 

For  thou  wert  not ;   but  power  from  worst  producing  worst — 
The  spirit  of  the  beasts  was  kindled  there, 
And  of  the  birds  and  of  the  watery  forms." 

That  "  thou  "  was  Adam,  and,  in  reverence,  it  seems  to  us 
that  the  only  way  left  of  righting  that  apparently  shadow- 
peopled  "  island"  to  the  apprehension  of  those  Higher  Intel- 
ligences was  through  the  interpenetration  of  the  idiosyn- 
cratic life  of  some  one  of  the  "  Principalities  and  Powers" 
into  its  lower  essence — in  a  word,  by  the  marriage  of  the 
Angelic,  or  Spiritual,  and  Sensuous  life. 

That  such  a  marriage  was  symboled  by  the  breathing  into 
the  nostrils  of  Adam  the  breath  of  life,  we  have  no  question. 

Into  his  organization — the  most  subtle  and  perfect  express- 
ion of  the  creative  energy  of  earth — a  higher  energy  had 
passed,  and  in  this  sublimest  marriage  was  the  act  and  pur- 
pose of  creation  consummate. 

To  the  universe,  when  he  awoke  in  birth  u  the  great  globe 
itself,"  with  all  "  the  pomp  and  circumstance"  of  its  peculiar 
being,  stood  first  revealed  beneath  the  pillared  firmament  as 
now  it  stands — 

"  Man,  the  imperial  shape,  then  multiplied 
His  generations  under  the  Pavilion 
Of  the  sun's  throne." 

His  organization  became  to  this  vast  new  entity  the  law  of 
beauty — of  perfect  form — harmonizing  it  with  the  Universe ; 
his  point  of  vision  in  common  with  the  Seraphim,  disclosing 
not  the  only  but — near  to  them — in  the  linked  Spiritual  gra- 
dation— the  highest  reality. 

He  first  saw  beauty  here,  and  heard  the  choir  of  morning 
birds,  but  he  as  well,  first  looked  upward  into  heaven  to  hear 
the  singing  of  the  morning  stars. 

He,  alone,  could  look  beyond  mere  consciousness,  and  see 
things,  not  as  they  appear  to  animal  sense,  but  nearly  as  they 
exist,  absolutely,  to  all  intelligences. 


150  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIKDS. 

All  Truth  is  relative — but  Existences  are  positive.  It  is 
only  to  man  that  the  higher  truth  of  these  Existences  was 
revealed,  for  he  alone  of  Earth  saw  them  in  their  relations. 
These  relations  were  wide  as  the  extended  firmament — deep 
as  abysmal  space  ;  and,  to  him,  in  right  of  his  angelic  birth, 
the  "  seeing  eye"  was  gifted. 

This  is  "  the  vision  and  the  faculty  divine ;"  and  that  his 
recreant  spirituality  does  not  always  use  it — that  he  has 
sometimes  walked  through  life  as  one  having  eyes  that  saw 
not — does  not,  for  an  instant,  alter  the  relations  of  things,  or 
make  their  position  on  the  eternal  scale  less  absolute,  or  iron- 
hinged. 

That  he  has  Free  Will,  in  this  repect,  is  his  own  awful 
and  peculiar  gift — we  cannot  conceive,  even  of  Gabriel, 
u  nearest  the  throne,"  as  one  who  could  not  FALL!  But  we 
can  conceive — if  man  could  only  see  as  we  do — or  (more 
modestly)  would  only  walk  with  his  eyes  open,  how  charm- 
ingly and  pleasantly  his  relations  to  the  Earth  might  be 
changed. 

It  is  not  so  absurd,  as  might  appear  at  first  glance,  to  sup- 
pose her  our  Primal  Parent  through  whom  we  have  been 
born  of  Spirit — for  surely  we  owe  to  her  what  we  have  of 
flesh  and  blood.  And,  to  our  mind,  how  lovely  such  a  faith 
would  be ! 

With  our  hearts  possessed  of  it,  then  would  all  the  rude 
tremendous  phases  of  her  energy  be  tempered  with  ameni- 
ties. It  would  then  be  our  large  Old  Mother,  chaunting  in 
her  seas  a  lullaby  to  us,  when  the  long  waves  broke  roaring 
on  the  sands,  or  shook  the  fast  cliffs  with  lashings. 

Then  it  would  be  the  heavy  trample  of  her  roused  strength 
in  chastenings,  when  the  hoarse  storm  made  noises  and  the 
"  cross  blue  lightning"  spit  its  shafts  against  the  crags — or, 
when  her  mountainous  brows  shook  off  the  mellow  evening, 
it  would  he  in  parting  smiles  for  us — when  their  white  fronts 
laughed  out  with  the  fiery  kiss  of  morning,  it  would  be  to 
greet  us. 


BIRDS  AND  POETS.  151 

"We  might  gaze  back  tranquil  love  for  love  into  her  dark 
eyes  of  sleeping  waters  when  they  showed  eloquent  for  us 
the  sparkling  visions  of  her  infinite  life.  In  pleasant  won- 
der, and  some  awe,  we  might  look  down  where  the  cavern- 
ous arteries  of  her  warm  great  heart  were  yawning — hear 
the  clinking  ripple  of  her  nourishing  blood  go  through  her 
veins — while,  far  beneath,  her  fiery  bowels  yearned  and 
shook  the  hills  with  belchings. 

Then  in  her  long  rivers  we  would  see  the  arms  of  a  nurs- 
ing Mother  thrown  around  the  nations — we  should  know  in 
the  wind-bowed  voiceful  forest,  the  shaking  of  her  musical 
hair — and  ah !  how  tenderly  salute  the  Wild  Flower  "  cinque- 
spotted  with  its  crimson  drops,"  sent  forth  to  us  from  near 
her  heart — a  thought  of  odors  painted  and  embodied  by  the 
Sun. 

"We  should  then  see  in  Brute  active  life ;  not  simply  sav- 
age foes  with  whom  our  dealings  should  be  under  the  law 
of  blood,  but  Anti-types  in  which  were  foreshadowed  the 
physical  thoughts  of  strength,  activity,  courage,  &c.,  which 
were  to  be  united  in  man  the  Type.  Lion,  tiger,  horse,  hog, 
monkey,  all  blended  into  one ;  and  he — with  his  union  of 
the  Higher  Vitality  acting  through  these  forces — exhibiting 
their  utmost  capabilities,  the  basest  as  well  as  the  best  powers 
of  these  organized  thoughts  of  action  and  of  passion. 

Then  would  they  become  to  us  forever  a  lower  Brother- 
hood, reminding  us  that  we  too  are  born  "  of  the  earth, 
earthy  ;"  that,  with  all  the  keen  exulting  of  this  star  measur- 
ing vision,  we  are  linked  to  them  through  a  common  life  in 
half  that  constitutes  our  being. 

Then  would  the  Brute  King  of  Numidian  forests  be  a  re- 
proach to  us — with  its  inviolate  faith  to  the  original  laws 
which  stamped  it  royal — would  rebuke  its  Human  Brother 
of  the  lion-heart  back  to  "  mere  nature ;"  when  he  grew  vo- 
luptuous, would  taunt  him  through  the  fixed  wrinkles  in  its 
tawny  face  and  the  still  strength  of  fierceness  in  its  eye,  to 


152  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIEDS. 

"  Kouse !  and  the  weak  and  wanton  Oupid 
Shall  from  your  neck  unloose  its  amorous  folds, 
And  like  a  dew-drop  from  the  lion's  mane, 
Be  shook  to  air !" 

Even  the  striped  Tiger,  in  its  Hyrcanian  lair,  stretched, 
gorged  with  blood,  and  harmless  as  a  sleeping  child,  might 
teach  a  Eobespierre  to  tire  of  slaughter  and  sheath  for  once 
his  gore-stained  claws. 

"We  are  forever  drawn  away  from  onr  Earth-Mother  by 
that  counter  force  in  us.  May  it  not  be  that  all  Evil  is  the 
result  of  this  unceasing  antagonism  of  the  Organic  and  Spir- 
itual lives — that  in  a  struggle  which  should  elevate  the  lower, 
the  symmetry  of  both  is  most  frequently  destroyed.  Earth 
calls  us  back  to  her  in  this  symbolical  language,  while 
the  stars  draw  us  by  affinities.  We  will  not  see  that  our 
true  Heaven  lies  between  the  two  ;  but  in  the  blindness  of 
our  perverse  strivings  make  that  happy  half-way  place  a 
Hell! 

Our  Mother  discourseth  with  us  through  these  her  living 
words — through  these  her  constant  Anti-types  of  the  heroic 
virtues  in  us  she  illustrates  the  changeless  laws  by  which 
they  are  sustained. 

She  warns  us  when  we  have  disgraced  our  lion — or  even 
our  dog  or  donkey  natures — how  we  may  get  back  again  to 
truth  by  copying  their  simple  lives.  She  speaketh  sternly 
to  us,  for  she  cannot  lie.  Ay — 

"  Call  the  creatures 

"Whose  naked  natures  live  in  all  the  spite 
Of  wreakful  heaven ;  whose  bare  unhoused  trunks 
To  the  conflicting  elements  exposed 
Answer  mere  nature — bid  them  flatter  thee." 

Ah  I  then,  too,  as  well,  would  birds  be  the  Anti-types  of 
the  Poetical  in  us.  As  we  have  said,  they  are  to  our  Eld- 
Mother  her  "  winged  words"  of  poetry.  The  similitude  is 


BIKDS  AND  POETS.  153 

perfect  here !  Even  as  poetry  is  to  us  the  higher  language 
of  our  highest — i.  e.  our  angelic  nature — so,  with  this  Matron 
Sister  of  the  stars,  is  this  Poetry  the  higher  expression  of 
the  strong  and  beautiful  in  her. 

Furthermore,  as  in  our  case,  it  matters  not  whether  this 
expression  speak  outwardly  through  the  heart,  the  blood,  or 
the  brain,  so  it  be  the  most  purely  creative  and  perfect  of  its 
kind,  it  is  yet  our  Poetry — exalted  just  in  proportion  as  the 
brain — chief  organ  of  the  soul — has  worked  it  forth.  So 
with  her — it  boots  not  whether  sunset,  waters,  clouds,  herbs, 
creeping  things,  beasts  or  Birds  be  her  language — each  con- 
dition is  the  expression  of  the  Soul  of  action  in  her,  and  is, 
in  its  highest  revelations,  her  Poetry — and  as  Birds  embody 
the  purest  graces  of  this  action,  they  are  her  most  elevated 
articulations ! 

Is  not  this  fairly  "  demonstrated?"  Should  they  not  seem 
to  us  the  sublimest  voices  of  her  worship,  lifted  up  on  wings 
towards  God,  and  be  therefore  sacred  from  all  wantonness  ? 
Should  they  not  thus  be  taken  closely  to  our  hearts  because 
they  not  only  so  clearly  speak  to  us  of  the  Soul  in  her,  but 
as  distinctly  symbolize  our  own  Souls  ?  for  is  it  not  from 
their  swift  aerial  movements  and  melodious  tones  we  gather 
all  the  images  and  language  of  the  Spiritual  Life  ?  In  short, 
are  not  Birds  the  clearest,  loftiest  strain  of  the  Earth's 
Poetry — the  most  perfect  allegories  of  the  life  to  come — 
the  finest  Anti-types  of  the  noblest  aspirations  of  the  life 
that  is? 

Though  man  has,  in  common  with  the  elephant,  sagacity 
— with  the  horse,  generous  activity — with  the  lion,  magnani- 
mous courage — yet,  only  in  common  with  the  Bird  hath  he 
wings,  or  rendereth  up  his  heart  on  high  in  singing.  But, 
even  as  Anti-types  of  the  physical  virtues,  Birds  are  the  high- 
est expression,  and  therefore  the  Heroic  Poetry. 

The  traits  enumerated  above,  in  connexion  with  brutes, 
are  those  of  subordinates,  of  such  as,  sword  in  hand,  lead 
columns  crashing  in  the  onset,  or  mount  first  "the  imminent 


154  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIRDS. 

deadly  breach ;"  but  they  act  under  a  controlling  mastery, 
and  it  is  that  of  such  a  spirit  as  the  Eagle  typifies — of  a 
broad-pinioned  cleaver  of  the  mists,  whose  far-flashing,  sun- 
defying  eye  sees  beyond  the  concurrence  he  has  wielded  to 
the  results.  Such  a  one  was  Napoleon — whose  whole  career 
was  the  sublimest  Heroic  Epic  the  world  ever  saw.  The 
Eagle  was,  naturally,  his  favorite  bird,  and  perched  upon  his 
standards,  leading  his  fiery  veterans  to  victory. 

It  was  his  Anti-type,  with  its  whole  hungry  family  of 
Kaptores,  flame-eyed  and  hook-beaked,  clustered  around  it 
in  his  Marshals! 

It  has  been  the  bird  of  victory  since  time  began — all  the 
mighty  Geniuses  of  war  have  loved  it — 

"  The  Anarch  Chiefs,  whose  fierce  and  murderous  snares 
Have  founded  many  a  sceptre-bearing  line," 

have  taken  it  for  a  sign,  an  omen  of  triumph.  The  wry- 
necked,  world-conquering  Macedonian  followed  it  to  the 
"  Ganges  golden  "  and  the  Temple  of  Ammon.  The  nation- 
yoking,  "hook-billed  Koman"  carried  it  before  his  legions. 
Beneath  its  wings  the  grand  Wallenstein,  with  his  German 
cohorts,  "blue-eyed,  yellow-haired  and  strong,"  battled 
haughtily  with  his  Destiny.  "  The  sterner  stuff  "  of  our  own 
daring  and  hardy  Fathers  saw  in  its  strong  wings  and  conti- 
nent-girdling flight,  the  fittest  emblem  of  the  freedom  and  the 
boundless  Empire  they  were  founding  here. 

In  a  word,  it  has  idealized  and  glorified  all  sublimest  ac- 
tion and  triumphs  of  the  physical.  It  is  the  Epic  of  earth's 
heroic  Poetry.  In  it  like  Homer,  the  Old  Mother  has  loos- 
ened from  "thunderous  brows"  her  topmost  thought  of 
beautiful,  fierce,  exulting  strength,  and  sent  it  plumed  to 
float  upon  her  storms. 

That  will  do — Miss  Barrett-izing  the  earth !  But  let  the 
Daughter  paint  for  us — her  bold  pencil  does  it  well ! 

When  we  set  up  for  one  of  "  God's  prophets  of  the  beau- 
tiful," then  may  we,  too,  grind  down  the  elements  for  our 


BIKDS  AND   POETS.  155 

palette,  and  at  a  single  stroke,  dash  off  such  a  profile  of 
our  Shynx-headed  Mother  in  her  eternal  youth,  that  the 
very  Raven  of  the  ark — said  to  be  now  abroad — will  re- 
cognize it  for  the  same  face  it  saw  lifted  above  the  flood  ! 

That  would  be  Miss  Barrett-izing  with  a  "  line  effect,"  es- 
pecially if  by  the  one  effort  we  could  throw  in,  as  an  acces- 
sory, the  old  fellow's  croak  of  greeting,  hoarse  with  the 
phlegm  of  ages. 

But  we  are  mournfully  fain  to  confess  we  may  not  be  a 
Seer — for  as  yet  we  have  seen  no  sights 

"  Of  calling  shapes  and  beckoning  shadows  dire," 

worth  talking  about ;  though,  in  equal  humility,  we  are 
ready  to  acknowledge  that,  all  this  while,  it  may  be 

" true  I  talk  of  dreams 

Which  are  the  children  of  an  idle  brain, 
Begot  of  nothing  but  vain  fantasy." 

Be  our  similitudes  veritable,  or  this  the  "base  and  fabric  of 
a  vision,"  still  we  reiterate  our  "  weakness"  for  them !  Sure 
this  wondrous  wide  ocean  of  Analogy  (had  we  not  as  well 
have  said  Truth  f)  has  some  sunny  spots  in  it — green  islands 
where  we  love  to  stop  and  play  upon  the  pebbly  verge 
with  the  weird  Albatross — it  brings  us  "whispering  shells" 
from  the  deep,  deep  sea.  Eebuke  not  our  toying  fancy,  and 
you  shall  hear  them,  too  ! 

But  has  not  Earth,  as  well  as  Man,  a  yet  more  exalted 
and  exalting  Poetry  than  that  of  which  the  Bird  of  Battle 
is  a  sign  ?  We,  ourselves,  can  vouch  for  this — for  have  we 
not  heard  it  ? — not  alone  in  strains  such  as 


-Bottomless  conceit 


Can  comprehend  in  still  imagination," 
but  through  this  carnal  sense  in  our  own  pricked  ears  have 


156  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIRDS. 

we  confessed  it.  Ah !  how  different  that  mellow  rhythm, 
from  the  harsh,  hungry  clarion,  sounded  in  its  scream? 

Have  we  not  gone  aside  into  those  secret  places  where  our 
Primal  Mother 

"  Plumes  her  feathers  and  lets  grow  her  wings, 
That  in  the  various  bustle  of  resort 
"Were  all  too  rumpled  and  sometime  impaired." 

Here  an  awed  silent  witness  have  we  not  listened  when  her 
solemn  moods  of  worship  came  upon  her  ?  Think  you  she 
does  not  know  the  Mighty  One,  who  thought  her — Daughter 
of  the  Sun — into  being  ? 

Yes !  and  she  serves  an  altar  to  him,  in  a  "  house  not  made 
with  hands ;"  and  thus,  for  that  service — away  from  the  hum 
and  dust  of  bruising  cities — from  the  rock-rude  chaos  of  her 
sterner  moods,  where  Eaglets  nestle  with  her  Storms— doth 
she  draw  apart ;  and,  gathering  about  her  there  her  delicate 
thoughts  of  love  and  gentlest  peace,  she  lifts  them  on  her 
green  bosom  to  her  old  Sire  to  kiss,  and  resting  tranquil  in 
his  warm  light — sings !  First,  she  sings  an  under  prelude 
with  the  breeze  and  stream — then,  soft  and  clear,  a  louder 
diapason  swelling  rings  in  sweet  articulations,  warbled  out 
or  trilling  from  a  thousand  living  throats !  Must  not  this 
be  her  choral  incense — hymn  of  praise — the  holier  strain  she 
carries  in  the  anthem  of  the  stars?  Every  note,  too,  is 
plumed  with  wings,  and  is  the  living  movement  of  her  heart 
towards  God. 

Have  we  not  thus  seen  that  she,  too — comparatively  with 
man — has  a  Poetry,  and  discourseth  "  sweet  living  numbers," 
after  the  same  manner  with  his  rapt  inspirations? 

This,  her  "  tuneful  choir,"  is  the  eldest ;  and,  as  it  expresses 
in  her  the  highest  yearnings  of  her  purer  life,  so  it  stands 
the  Anti-type  of  the  spiritual  and  truest  Poetry  in  Man — 
Man  1  her  wayward  child,  half  tyrant  and  half  stranger  on 
her  bosom. 

What  recks  he,  the  hard  self- worshipper,  that  the  Linnet 


BIRDS  AND  POETS.  157 

is  his  lowlier  sister !  Still  is  she  bone  of  his  bone  and  flesh 
of  his  flesh,  and  sings  for  him  of  love  !  Yet  he,  too,  sings 
of  love.  Her  love  is  of  the  sun  and  flowers — his  love  goes 
winging  to  freeze  among  the  stars,  and  will  not  stoop  to  ca- 
ress her.  Ah !  nnfraternal  despot ;  ye  may  not  know  the 
innocent  joy  when  it  is  warm  about  the  heart.  Thus  her 
meek  rebuke  would  be  plained  low  from  out  her  tiny  heart ! 
But,  gentle  singer,  though  in  the  aggregate  we  be 

"  A  people  currish,  churlish  as  the  seas, 
And  rude  almost  as  rudest  salvages" — 

yet  have  we  men  and  women  of  us,  who 

"  Subscribe  to  tender  objects" — 

who  can  turn  away  from  the  unholy  altars  of  this  "  dark 
idolatry  of  self,"  to  know  and  feed  upon  the  beautiful  in  out- 
ward things.  To  such,  thou  art  a  lowly  sister — 

And  for  thy  songs  they  give  thee  song  again, 
But  set  thy  lispings  to  a  loftier  strain ! 

Safer  in  their  wide  sympathies  thou  mayest  nestle  than  in 
the  strong  cedar — cherished  and  nourished  at  their  deep 
hearts — take  thine  ease — thou  mayest  be  glad  ! 

These  are  the  true  Monarchs  here.  They  have  thrown  aside 
the  purple  and  forgotten  State.  They  go  forth  bare  and 
meek  into  the  throng  of  living  creatures,  and  in  their  benefi- 
cence alone  do  they  seem  royal — "the  benediction"  of,  their 
calm,  genial  smiles  falls  everywhere  in  dew  ; 

"  And  they  shall  be  accounted  Poet  Kings, 
"Who  simply  say  the  most  heart-easing  things." 

These  are  they  the  Song  Birds  typify  ! — the  soft-eyed  and 
musical-hearted  ! — Ah,  alike — how  full  of  happy  love  and 
the  power  of  giving  joy ! 


1-68  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIEDS. 

It  is  very  pleasant  and  curious  to  sec  how  many  points  of 
resemblance  there  are  between  these  Plumy  Poets  and  their 
bifurcated  rivals  without  feathers.  The  points  of  departure 
are  rather  of  manner  than  of  kind.  The  bird  is  its  own  in- 
strument, and 

"  Singeth  of  Summer  in  full-throated  ease;" 

though  there  are  exceptions;  the  Woodpecker  sometimes 
makes  of  the  hollow  oak  an  "  instrument,"  whereon  to  beat 
a  tattoo.  The  Grouse  extemporizes  the  thunder  of  deep 
bass,  using  an  old  log  for  a  drum ;  but  these  are  incidental 
deviations,  for  they  are  not  strictly  Song  Birds,  though  they 
carry  important  parts  in  the  orchestra.  The  Man  has  a 
voice  too,  and  uses  it  to  a  purpose  sometimes — for  old  Her- 
rick  says, 

u  So  smooth,  so  sweet,  so  silv'ry  is  thy  voice, 
As,  could  they  hear,  the  damned  would  make  no  noise." 

And,  in  further  proof  of  the  earnestness  with  which  it  may 
be  used,  even  the  delicate  Juliet  exclaims, 

"  Else  I  could  tear  the  cave  where  Echo  lies, 
And  make  her  fairy  tongue  more  hoarse  than  mine 
With  repetition  of  my  Borneo's  name." 

And  could  you  but  hear  the  exquisite  Mrs.  Mowatt  in  the 
"  Else  I  could  tear"  of  these  lines,  you  would  understand 
what  might  be  the  voice  of  Shakspeare's  "  dove-feathered 
Kaven"  in  sad  beautiful  rage  !  In  loftier  numbers  we  are 
told  how 

" The  harmonious  mind 

Poured  forth  itself  in  all  prophetic  song." 

But  this  labial  lute — the  organic  "instrument"  in  man — 
could  not  yet  equal  the  effects  produced  by  those  of  his  ri- 
vals; and,  as  he  was  to  express  in  himself  everything,  he 


BIKDS  AND  POETS.  159 

brought  his  constructive  creativeness  to  bear,  and  soon 
through  it  equalized  his  individuality  with  all.  From  the 
time  of 

"  Jubal's  pipe  awakening  the  young  echoes," 

down  to  the  present,  his  art  has  grown  until  his  creatures — 
in  emulation  of  his  mother — have  become  alive,  and  he  can 

" With  fleet  fingers  make 


His  liquid- voiced  comrade  talk  with  him — 
It  can  talk  measured  music  eloquently." 

And  now — oh  rarest  miracle ! — wondrous  consummation ! 

"  Let  but  thy  voice  engender  with  the  string, 
And  angels  will  be  born  whilst  ihou  dost  sing"       HEEEICZ. 

Here  is  the  triumph,  "  in  special,"  of  Man's  creativeness  over 
that  of  Earth !  We  should  like  to  see  the  old  Dame  or  any 
of  her  Poet-Birds  surpass  this  charmingly-refined  mode  of 
populating  a  Heaven  !  But  yet,  withal,  it  is  the  legitimate 
procreation  of 

"Music  married  to  immortal  verse," 

and  the  logical  deduction  from  our  "  foregone  conclusions," 
that  while  Earth's  music  notes  are  embodied  in  the  forms 
of  Birds,  those  of  Man  become  angels  ! 

Birds  love  best  "  the  bedabbled  morn,"  and  their  boldest, 
freest  song  bursts  forth  in  wild,  sweet  garrulous  greeting  to 
the  sun — while  their  evening  hymns  are  plaining,  low  and 
mellow !  Our  Poets  have  not  been  remarkable  for  seeing 
the  sun  rise.  They  permit 

"  Full  many  a  glorious  morn 
To  flatter  the  mountain-tops" 

unreproved  of  them.  They  rather  affect  the  ghostly  watches 
of  the  moon,  and  given  to  becoming  somewhat  "mellow" 


160  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIRDS. 

too,  of  evenings,  "  the  wild  disguise  has  been  apt  to  almost 
antick"  them. 

"  Cup  us  till  the  world  goes  round," 

was  ever  the  favorite  chorus  of  their  mellow  vespers.  God 
bless  them  !  Poor  Chaucer  is  not  the  only  one  of  whom  it 
might  be  said — 

"  That  mark  upon  his  lip  is  wine  !" 

The  song-bird  with  its  pipes  a-weary,  sips,  for  refreshing,  the 
fiery  dews  inspired  of  the  sun.  They,  as  well  to  awake  the 
frost-bound  blood  or  rouse  the  sacred  madness,  have  quaffed 
at  this 


Thespian  spring, 


Of  which  sweet  swans  must  drink  before  they  sing 
Their  true-paced  numbers  and  their  holy  lays." 

Not  a  strictly  "Washingtonian  sentiment,  by  the  way,  but  it 
will  do,  since  Birds  and  Poets  are  accountable  for  it — 
though  so  staid  a  Poet  as  Wordsworth  talks  about  "  Thou 
drunken  Lark !"  Birds  are  proverbially  improvident  and 
regardful  of  the  injunction,  "  give  thyself  no  thought  for  the 
morrow,  what  we  shall  eat,  or  what  ye  shall  drink" — for  with 
them  "  sufficient  to  the  day  is  the  joy  thereof !"  That  therein 
Birds  and  Poets  do  most  agree,  the  Lay  of  "  The  Flower 
and  Leaf"  shall  bear  us  witness.  The  gentle  Poet,  idling 
through  an  embowered  Dream-land,  becomes 

" Ware  of  the  fairest  medler  tree 

That  ever  yet  in  all  my  life  I  see. 
***** 
Wherein  a  goldfinch  leaping  pretilie 
Fro  bough  to  bough." 

The  little  bird  begins  to  sing 

"  So  passing  sweetly,  that  by  manifold 
It  was  more  pleas  aunt  than  I  could  devise." 


BIRDS  AND   POETS.  161 

Thereby  ravished  into  paradise,  he  sat  him  down  upon  "  the 
sote  grasse"  to  drink  in  tranquilly  the  fulness  of  the  new 
bliss  ;  and  reclined  thus,  his  heart  begins  to  chaunt  of  itself 
— like  wind-stirred  boughs — concerning  this  song  of  its  little 
Brother  which  so  moved  it.  Above  all  images  of  soft  de- 
light, that  rippling  accord  was 

"  More  pleasaunt  to  me  by  many  fold 
Than  meat  or  drinke  or  any  other  thing, 
Thereto  the  herber  was  so  fresh  and  cold, 
The  wholesome  savours  eke  so  comforting, 
That  as  I  deemed  sith  the  beginning 
Of  the  world  was  never  seene  er  than 
So  pleasaunt  a  ground  of  none  earthly  man  !" 

You  perceive  that  Chaucer  and  his  Goldfinch  might  both 
have  sprung  from  from  a  very  "  Halcyon's  nest"  of  spiritual 
' '  Loafer dom  ! "  Indeed, 


the  placid  mien 


Of  liim  who  first  with  harmony  informed 
The  language  of  our  fathers " 

seems  to  have  marked  him  peculiarly  as  Prince  and  Founder 
of  this  world- wide  Order  of  "  the  lovers  of  quiet."  He  ab- 
solutely and  unblushingly  confesses  the  whole  implication  in 
"  The  Komaunt  of  the  Kose"— 

"  And  then  wist  I  and  saw  full  well 
That  Idlenesse  me  served  well, 
That  put  me  in  such  jolitie." 

But  then,  who  does  not  love  that  "jolitie"  when  he  under- 
stands that 

"  There  were  many  a  bird  singing 
Throughout  the  yerde  all  thringing," 

"  is  fit  for  treasons,  stratagems,"  &c.  Ay,  he  is  the  veriest 
hind  that  ever  turned  up  clod,  who  has  not  a  fountain  of 


162  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIRDS. 

sweet  apprehensions  stirred  within  him  when  he  hears,  mel- 
lowed through  the  gray  rifts  of  Time  the  rhythm  of 

"  These  birdes  that  I  you  devise 
They  song  her  song  as  faire  and  well 
As  angels  doon  espirituell." 

Ah,  exquisite  Idlers! — would  that  in  this  busy,  froward, 
vexing  "  Play,"  the' only  "  acts"  for  those  like  you  might  be 
to 

" Sit  apart  and  sing, 

And  smoothe  your  golden  hair!" 

To  the  Bird,  this  gay,  blissful  Aiden  is  the  reality  of  sun- 
shiny life — to  the  pale  Poet,  alas !  the  "  semblant  shadow" 
of  a  taunt.  Yet,  withal,  his  brave  "faith  of  gentleness" 
lives  too  far  on  high — too  self-sustained  in  its  own  quiet 
might  to  lust  for  base  appliances.  The  making  melody  to 
feed  his  own  heart's  yearning  brings  to  him 

"  A  greater  content  in  course  of  true  delight, 
Than  to  be  thirsty  after  tottering  honor, 
Or  tie  Ms  treasure  up  in  silken  bags 
To  please  the  fool  and  death." 

But  however  charming  these  general  "  similitudes"  of  the 
Birds  and  Poets  may  be  to  us,  it  is  necessary  for  us  to  re- 
member that  there  is  such  a  thing  as  being  "  cloyed  of 
sweetness"  known  in  the  world  !  We  must  descend  to  par- 
ticulars in  illustrating  our  theory  of  concordance.  We  have 
said  that  song-birds  were  the  Anti-types  of  they  who  "  shall 
be  accounted  Poet  Kings." 

By  this  we  mean  that — for  each  of  the  Human  Poets  who 
has  illustrated  the  external  relations  of  Humanity  distinctly 
from  himself — or,  in  other  words,  who  has  seen  and  sung 
of  things  as  they  are — and  been  purely  creative — our  mother 
furnishes  among  Birds  a  distinct  Anti-type. 


BIRDS  AND  POETS.  163 

For  instance — as  the  most  immediate  and  convenient  ex- 
ample— what  sentient  thing  so  strikingly  illustrates  Shak- 
speare  as  the  Mocking  Bird  ?  Though  circumstances  ren- 
dered the  interposition  of  a  "  Discoverer"  necessary  to  bring 
to  light  the  New  World,  which  alone  could  furnish  the  pro- 
totype of  such  a  Genius,  yet  it  is  not  the  less  true  that  it  has 
been  found. 

And  here  we,  daringly  perhaps,  present  it.  The  Mocking 
Bird  is  the  Monarch  of  Earth's  song — imperial  over  all  the 
choir  of  woods  and  plains  that  lie  beneath  the  stars — as 
Shakspeare  is  over  that  more  spiritual  choir  which, 

"  In  the  rapid  plumes  of  song 
Clothed  itself  sublime  and  strong." 

Shakspeare  is  more  human  than  humanity  itself — in  the  sub- 
tility  of  his  mimetic  art  another  "  nature  that  shapes  man 
better."  The  Mocking  Bird  in  its  native  powers  of  song 
surpasses  all  other  birds  ;  and  even  when  imitating  them, 

"  All  that  ever  was, 
Joyous,  and  clear,  and  fresh,  thy  music  doth  surpass." 

On  some  fair  morning,  when  our  Mother  wears  such  holiness 
of  smiling  peace  upon  her  face  that  the  dreamy  Poet  wan- 
dering forth  might  be  pardoned  for  supposing  that  he  was 

"  Amidst  the  young  green  wood  of  Paradise, 
Such  store  of  birds  therein  yshrouded  were, 
Chaunting  in  shade  their  sundrie  melodie," 

until  the  very  hills  reverberate,  and  meadow  grasses  dance 
in  cadence — then  might  he  hear  the  Mocking  Bird  triumph- 
ing I  Loud  above  them  all  its  notes  would  swell — 

"  With  wanton  heed  and  giddy  cunning 
The  melting  voice  through  mazes  running, 
Untwisting  all  the  chains  that  tie 
The  hidden  soul  of  harmony  !" 


164  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIEDS. 

Every  trill  and  quaver  of  a  rival  song  its  victorious,  Elfin 
skill  would  reproduce,  until  each  separate  throat  was  choked 
with  envy.  Ah,  then  the  joy  and  glory  of  its  conquest 
comes  !  Out  of  the  silence  there  would  go  such  a  "  storm 
of  music," 

"  Such  harmonious  madness 
From  its  throat  would  flow," 

as  might  "  shake  the  dull  oblivion  from  his  dreams !" 

Shakspeare  was  diverse  as  a  peopled  world ;  all  moods,  all 
thoughts,  all  humors  of  all  men,  alike  were  his.  The  veri- 
similitudes and  Protean  versatility  of  the  Mocking  Bird  are 
quite  as  strange.  Indeed,  its  power  of  adaptation  is  most 
remarkable.  Mr.  Audubon  represents  it  in  its  native  and 
congenial  home — the  dew-dropping,  odor-breathing  South 
— as  the  most  gentle  and  confiding  of  creatures.  We  can 
bear  eye-witness  of  this  ;  for  here  it  is  known  and  cherished 
in  the  fraternal  spirit  of  our  Philosophy,  and  is  as  fearless, 
familiar,  and  domestic  as  a  household  sprite.  We  have  seen 
it,  as  he  represents,  place  its  nest  openly  upon  the  fence  by 
the  side  of  the  public  road,  and  have  often  thrown  crumbs 
to  it  as  it  hopped  about  the  door-sill.  But  like  all  vigorous 
natures,  it  is  restless  and  a  wanderer — though,  with  a  saga- 
cious and  mysterious  sympathy  or  apprehension,  it  never 
pushes  its  migations  beyond  the  vicinage  of  Humanity  of 
some  sort  or  other. 

So  when  impulse  and  poverty  had  driven  Shakspeare  to 
London,  his  masterly  genius  mated  itself  with  circumstances 
as  he  found  them,  (so  far  as  was  necessary,) — with  the  base 
huckstering  elements  he  saw  to  be  all-powerful  around  the 
theatres — until,  interfusing  his  own  "  candied  nature"  into 
those  about  him,  he  elevated  them  upon  his  triumphs  into 
dignity,  as  well  as  awed  respect.  But  this  facility  of  adap- 
tation illustrates  only  a  phase  of  its  Shaksperian  character. 
Shakspeare  was  the  genius  of  "  infinite  humors  " — Jack 


BIRDS  AND   POETS,  165 

Falstaff,  Bardolph,  Shallow,  Nym,  et  ii  omnes — with  Puck, 
Ariel,  Titania  and  Oberon  thrown  in — stand  like  chiselled 
laughter  upon  the  monumental  front  of  Time.  Our  feath- 
ered Shakspeare  can,  in  its  sphere,  contend  for  nothing  so 
sublimely  fixed — but  that  it  is  a  practical,  habitual  humorist 
of  the  rarest  water,  as  we  have  already  shown. 

We  will  here  dismiss  this  particular  contrast.  We  are 
fully  prepared  to  expect,  that  in  this  instance  as  well  as  in 
those  which  are  to  follow  our  "  Similitudes " — our  whole 
Philosophy  indeed — will  appear  to  many  surface-glancing 
minds, 

"  Like  the  man's  thought  dark  in  the  infant's  brain — 
Like  aught  that  is  which  wraps  what  is  to  be!" 

We  are  smilingly  content  to  rest  all  upon  this  interpreta- 
tion, so  that — in  the  Poetical  sense,  it  include  the  pregnant 
meaning  of 

u  The  infantine  familiar  clasp  of  things  divine." 

And  then,  again,  who  but  Milton,  "  blind  Thamyris  "  among 
the  "Prophets  old"  should  be  a  type  of  the  Nightingale? 
Who  does  not  remember  that  delicate  and  touching  compar- 
ison instituted  by  himself  in  allusion  to  his  blindness  ? — 
Who,  other  than  he,  could  under  such  circumstances  of  blank, 
rayless  desolation — poised  on  his  own  supreme  spiritual^ — 
have  loftily  fed 

" On  thoughts  that  voluntary  move 


Harmonious  numbers  as  the  wakeful  bird 
Sings  darkling,  and  in  shadiest  covers  hid, 
Tunes  her  nocturnal  note." 

All  minds  must  be  impressed  by  the  strange  excelling  appo- 
siteness  of  the  similitude  in  this  case.  Ah,  Soul  of  the  beau- 
tiful! thy 


166  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIRDS. 

"  Cloudy  wings  with  sun-fire  garlanded," 

"Before  the  spirit-sighted  countenance 
Of  Milton  didst  thou  pass  from  that  sad  scene 
Beyond  whose  night  he  saw  with  a  dejected  mein." 

And  what  a  starry  "  night "  was  that  thou  didst  disclose  to 
him  !  How  great  a  firmament,  moving  and  mingled,  popu- 
lous with  burning  spheres !  And  what  a  dawn  is  that  which 
has  leaped  forth  from  it — in  flames,  in  purple,  and  in  music 
over  Earth !  "We  see  it  to  have  been  both  with  Milton  and 
his  own  loved  Philomel,  that  their  midnight  song 


-begins  anew 


Its  strain  when  other  harmonies  stopt  short 
Leave  the  dinned  air  vibrating  silvery." 

To  both,  the  prerogative  has  been  given,  as  a  dominion  over 
that  ominous,  awful  pause  'twixt  Life  and  Light, 

"  To  satiate  the  hungry  dark  with  melody." 

With  both  it  is  a  solemn  minstrelsy — solemn  and  liquid  from 
its  shadowy  source — pregnant  and  high  as  prophesy.  The 
Nightingale 

"  The  light- winged  Driad  of  the  trees," 

sitting  and  singing  'neath  the  moon,  will  make  the  long- 
drawn  shades  to  stir,  and  night's  deep  bosom  palpitate  with 
bliss.  In  its  rapt  song,  fluent  and  rounded  like  the  roll 
of  waters  going  free,  the  fountain  of  its  heart  comes  forth — 
now  the  tide  is  full  and  slow,  up-swelling  through  the  dusky 
void — then  it  is  rippled  out  in  low,  sweet  laughings,  and 
again  bursts  in  the  shrilly  ring  of  jubilant  loudest  sympho- 
nies. What  a  joy  it  is  beneath  the  "  visiting  moon," 

"  The  singing  of  that  happy  nightingale 
In  this  sweet  forest,  from  the  golden  close 
Of  evening,  till  the  star  of  dawn  may  fail, 
Thus  interfused  upon  the  silentness." 


BIRDS  AND   POETS.  167 

In  the  tender  melancholy,  the  full,  liquid  flow  of  Milton's 
majestic  measures  we  can  perceive  something  more  than  an 
imaginary  resemblance  to  the  characteristics  of  the  bird's 

song; 

"  And  Philomel  her  song  with  tears  doth  steep !" 

as  well  as  the  Blind  Singer.  The  nations  crowding  eagerly 
around  the  pedastal  of  the  Poet's  fame,  to  do  obeisance  to  his 
memory,  bear  witness  that 

"  The  mellow  touch  of  music  most  doth  wound 
The  soule  when  it  doth  rather  sigh  than  sound  ;" 

and,  softened  down  the  lengthened  night  of  ages,  do  those 
"  Sighs  resound  through  harkless  ground." 

Though  this  saddened,  mournful  earnestness  tempers  and 
leads  the  general  flow  of  his  verse,  yet  " L' Allegro"  is  con- 
trasted with  "  II  Penseroso :"  he  can  and  does  smile  as  well 
as  weep  ;  and  the  music  of  his  delicate  mirth 

"  Falls  on  us  like  a  silent  dew 

Or  like  those  maiden  showers 
Which,  like  the  peep  of  day,  do  strew 
A  babtime  o'er  the  flowers!" 

The  Nightingale  will  not  sing  freely  when  deprived  of  its 
liberty,  and  fast  languishes  in  a  cage.  Here  we  are  reminded 
of  Milton's  stern  indomitable  devotion  to  human  freedom. — 
Who  does  not  remember  that  glorious  burst  of  this  holy  en- 
thusiasm— 


•  The  uncontrolled  worth 


Of  this  poor  cause  would  kindle  my  rapt  spirit 

"With  such  a  flame  of  sacred  vehemence, 

That  dumb  things  would  be  moved  to  sympathize, 

And  the  brute  Earth  would  lend  her  nerves,  and  shake." 

Both  Bird  and  Poet  were  clothed  in  that  "  russet  mantle," 
which  Time  and  all  things  else  solemn  and  strong,  love  best 


168  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIRDS. 

to  wear.  In  the  Bird,  with  its  plain,  brown  plumes  hid  in 
the  lowly  hawthorn,  singing  to  the  night,  who  does  not  see 
a  resemblance  to  the  Kepublican  Poet,  in  his  coarse,  simple 
garb,  retired  beyond  the  reach  of  persecution  to  his  humble 
home,  while,  out  of  his  darkness^  over  all  the  world, 

"  Prophetic  echoes  flung  dim  melody." 

"With  so  many  and  such  singular  points  of  coincidence  be- 
tween them,  who  can  doubt  but  that  the  Poet  felt  them,  and 
that  his  mild  spirit  yearned,  and  was  moved  by  the  tender 
drawing  of  affinities  towards  his  tuneful  Brother.  He, 
rather  than  poor  Keats,  might  have  passionately  pleaded  : 

"  So  let  me  be  thy  choir,  and  make  a  moan 

Upon  the  midnight  hours. 
Thy  voice,  thy  lute,  thy  pipe,  thy  incense  sweet, 

From  swinged  censers  teeming  ; 
Thy  shrine,  thy  grove,  thy  oracle,  thy  heat, 

Of  pale-mouthed  prophet  dreaming." 

As  is  Milton,  so  is  the  Nightingale  peculiarly  the  favorite 
of  the  poets.  They  are  regarded  alike  with  a  gentle  and 
deep  affection.  Kind  old  Spenser  has  expressed  this  for  us 
all,  and  for  all  time,  concerning  the  Bird ;  and  the  Poet  and 
the  Bird  are  one. 

"  Hence  with  the  nightingale  will  I  take  parte, 
That  blessed  byrd  that  spends  her  time  of  sleepe 
In  songs  and  plaintive  pleas ." 

Other  coincidences — if  possible,  even  yet  more  apparent — 
suggest  themselves. 

"  Nor  that  is  not  the  lark,  whose  notes  do  beat 
The  vaulty  heaven  so  high  above  our  head." 

The  thought  of  Shelley  at  once  occurs  in  the  high  place 
of  that  aerial  melodist.  Who  has  not,  long  ago,  linked  in- 


BIRDS  AND  POETS.  169 

dissolubly  in  his  memory  the  image  of  this  Poet  with  that 
of  the  Skylark.  One  could  not  avoid  this  association,  even 
if  the  "  Ode  to  a  Skylark  "  had  never  been  written.  The 
Poet  felt  it  to  be  his  skiey  Brother,  and  greeted  it  out  of  his 
heart  of  hearts,  in  the  silver-footed  cadences  of  that  most 
rare  of  exquisite  strains.  It  seems  to  us  that  the  poet  had 
unconsciously  thrown  out  his  own  soul  upon  those  music- 
hinged  plumes  up  the  blue  dome  of  air, 


To  float  and  run 


Like  an  unbodied  joy  whose  race  has  just  hegun." 

It  is  evident  that,  in  the  simplicity  of  this  beautiful  ego- 
tism, he  was  singing  to,  and  of  himself,  without  being  aware. 
In  all  poetry,  there  is  not  a  more  nice  and  perfect  similitude 
of  the  life  and  mission  of  the  individual  Poet,  than  that  he 
has  furnished  of  his  own  in  this  ode.  Who  other  than 
Shelley  is 

"  Like  a  poet  hidden 

In  the  light  of  thought, 
Singing  hymns  unbidden, 

Till  the  world  is  wrought 
To  sympathize  with  hopes  and  fears  it  heeded  not !" 

But  it  was  an  atmosphere  akin  to  the  sun-bright  radiance  of 
a  prophet's  brow,  in  which  he  was  "  hidden  ;"  and  the  vision 
of  bat-eyed,  oblivious  dreamers  has  shrunk  before  it,  because 
it  was  of  a 

"  Light  diviner  than  the  common  sun." 

Such  "  muling  "  in  their  dull  infanticide  of  thought,  have 
been  venomous  as  they  knew  how  to  be  in  denouncing  him 
as  "  a  cold,  incomprehensible  Idealist  I"  Miss  Barrett,  in  her 
magnificent  "Vision  of  the  Poets,"  has  been  most  shame- 
fully disloyal  to  the  glorious  apprehensions  in  herself,  when 
amidst  such  "goodlie  companie,"  she  dismissed  this  poet 
down  the  ages,  on  the  attenuated  echo  of  this  vulgar  lie : 


170  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIRDS. 

u And  Shelley  in  his  white  ideal 

All  statue  blind ," 

is  a  falsehood  base  enough  to  be  incendiary.  The  "  white 
wings  "  she  prayed  might  sprout  upon  the  shoulders  of  George 
Sand,  were  singularly  unfaithful  to  her  own  strong  aspira- 
tions for  the  Eternally  True  at  this  particular  juncture. 

A  cruel  and  unrighteous  falsehood  with  regard  to  that 
heroic  man  has  been  conveyed  by  her  in  this  characteriza- 
tion. Its  meaning,  as  a  Poetical  image,  most  significantly 
and  effectually  shuts  him  out  from  the  whole  region  of  hu- 
man sympathies. 

This  is  the  very  error  in  which  the  mobocracy  of  mind 
has  persisted  with  regard  to  him,  and  to  find  a  genius  pos- 
sessed of  such  remarkable  prowess  as  her's  has  given  abun- 
dant evidences  of,  stooping  to  demagogue  with  a  scrubby 
prejudice  for  the  sake  of  an  effective  image,  is  painfully  dis- 
pleasing to  us.  "Well  might  his  saddened  shade  be  imagined 
as  exclaiming  "ettu  Brute!"  (with  a  feminine  affix)  to  a 
thrust  coming  from  such  a  hand.  Yet,  though  she,  herself, 
has  first  really  unsexed  genius,  she  has  as  well  unfraternized 
it  in  thus  countenancing  the  mongrel  herd  which  has  so  long 
been  barking  at  his  heels. 

What,  Shelley ! — meekest  of  the  "  Elder  Brothers  of  hu- 
manity " — who  would  gladly  have  anointed  the  feet  of  the 
poor  fallen  ones  and  wiped  them  with  his  hair,  could  he 
thereby  have  raised  them  up  again 

"  To  live,  as  if  to  love  and  live  were  one  " — 

who  informed  himself  of  medical  science,  and  walked  the 
hospitals  while  a  mere  youth,  in  view  of  no  other  rewards 
than  those  which  the  consciousness  of  ministering  to  the  woes 
of  others  might  bring — whose  whole  private  life — with  all  its 
passionate  derelictions  upon  mistaken  principles — is  now  ac- 
knowledged on  every  hand  to  have  been  spent  in  the  "  dedi- 


BIKDS  AND  POETS.  171 

cated  air  "  of  universal  love — whose  very  errors  have  a  sub- 
limity in  them  approaching  to  the  awful,  from  the  consistent 
earnestness  of  this  love  for  the  Brotherhood  of  Humanity 
which  made  them  blind  ! 

He  to  be  stigmatized  from  such  a  quarter  as  whitely  cold, 
in  the  frozen  isolation  of  his  ideality  "  all  statue  blind,"  is 
too  unpardonable.  None  but  fools  and  fanatics  pretend  to 
pin  their  faith  upon  any  particular  poem  of  Shelley's  as  the 
embodiment  of  a  philosophy  or  creed. 

To  all  thinkers,  Queen  Mab  is,  to  the  last  intent,  false — as 
he,  himself,  regretfully  acknowledged  in  later  life.  But  then 
it  is  recognized  as,  artistically,  the  most  intense  and  finest 
expression  of  a  peculiar  period  or  phase  of  development 
common  to  that  dawn  of  eager  energies  which  as  well  makes  a 

" Morning  like  the  spirit  of  a  youth, 

Who  means  to  be  of  note,  begin  betimes." 

There  is  a  sublimer  thing  than  Reason,  which  is  Faith — 
the  highest  faculty  of  the  human  soul' — and  Shelley  has  dif- 
fered from  other  lofty,  earnest  minds  in  the  particular,  that 
he  has  not  only  thought  out  and  felt  out  with  singular  dis- 
tinctiveness,  but  left  on  record  every  step,  feature  and  con- 
dition, of  that  weary  travel  from  Doubt  to  assured  Truth, 
each  one  has  to  make  for  himself  over  the  highway  of  de- 
velopment. 

All  along  the  way  of  his  pilgrimage,  he  has  left  land- 
marks which  may  lead  the  weak,  who  stop  short,  to  error ; 
but  to  the  strong- visioned  and  the  hardy  must  prove  import- 
ant guides  to  that  high-placed  "house  of  life,"  upon  the  very 
threshold  of  which  he  suddenly  fell  into  the  abyss  of  death. 
As  a  metaphysician  and  philosopher,  he  is  not  to  be  classi- 
fied so  much  by  what  he  was,  as  by  what  the  evident  tenden- 
cies of  his  later  modes  of  thought  showed  he  would  have 
been. 

His  life  was  an  unfinished  act  upon  which  the  curtain  has 


172  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIRDS. 

fallen.  He  was  a  mighty  Prophet  sitting  on  his  grave,  which 
gaped  and  took  him  in  before  the  full  burthen  of  his  inspira- 
tion had  been  sung.  Therefore  should  he  be  dealt  with  in 
charity,  which  forgiveth  and  hopeth  much. 

Every  thorough  student  of  Shelley  smiles  at  his  ravings 
against  Eeligion,  because  he  perceives  that,  simply,  they  are 
monomaniac.  He  had  dwelt  upon  the  fixed  idea  of  its 
abuses,  which  he  so  keenly  deplored  until  he  had  come  to 
place  them  for  the  thing  itself ;  while  he  had,  in  reality — 
calling  it  by  another  name  to  himself — taken  more  of  its  es- 
sence into  his  heart  than  many  who  have  born  a  better  name. 

That  all  his  morality — apart  from  those  vagaries  with  re- 
gard to  social  organization  and  perfectibility  which  he,  in  com- 
mon with  Coleridge,  Southey,  and  other  bright  and  true  souls, 
was  misled  by  in  early  life — was  of  a  Christian  spirit,  is  per- 
fectly transparent ;  though  he  was  unconscious  of  this  himself. 

He  was  working  his  way  up  through  clouds  of  error,  made 
splendid  by  his  genius,  to  the  clearer  atmosphere  of  Faith — 
glimpses  of  which  he  had  already  been  visited  by  through 
the  rifts.  Had  he  lived,  we  have  no  question,  he  would  have 
mounted  to  a  realization  of  Faith,  and  calmly  settled  with 
folded  wings  upon  the  "  Eock  of  Ages." 

We  see  indications,  towards  the  last,  that  he  might  have 
even  reached  the  opposite  extreme  of  high  Conservatism  in 
Christianity.  Students  who  cannot  get  beyond  the  "  notes 
to  Queen  Mab,"  in  their  appreciation  of  Shelley  as  a  Man 
and  a  Poet,  had  better  have  had  nothing  to  do  with  him. 
His  works  are  dangerous  play-things  for  children  of  any  age  ! 

But  we  have  not  room — in  the  repletion  of  a  philosophic 
mood — to  say  all  in  this  connection  we  should  be  glad  to  say 
about  Shelley.  This  we  intend  to  make  a  future  occasion  to 
do.  "We  have  seen  that  never  were  Bird  and  Poet  so  mated. 

Let  but  the  impulse  of  some  holy,  even  though  miscalcu- 
lated, purpose  be  presented — of  some  deed  of  loyal  chivalry 
to  Her  he  knew  as  Truth,  come  to  him  in  the  humble  walks 
he  chose,  and 


BIRDS  AND  POETS.  173 

"  The  low-roosted  lark 
From  its  thatched  pallet  roused" 

never  sprang  up  on  sublimer  flights  than  did  this  Poet, 

"  Swift  as  a  spirit  hastening  to  his  task 

Of  glory  and  of  good, " 

"  Sunward  now  his  flight  he  raises^ 

Catches  fire,  as  seems,  and  blazes 
With  uninjured  plumes." 

With  all  this  flashing  wonder  of  his  far  and  graceful  wing- 
ing, yet  is  that  shrill  delight  we  hear — showering  a  rain  of 
melody,  while  soaring  he  still  sings — the  voice  of  our 
humanity,  mellow  and  rich  with  old  familiar  tones.  Still 
we  are  "  overcome,  as  by  a  summer  cloud,"  with  admiration 
of  this  most  chaste  and  sacred  enthusiasm,  which  seems  to 
be  mounting,  on  its  own  joy,  to  shake  the  earth-dews  from 
its  pinions  off  into  their  old  fountains  up  to  the  sky  ! 

Ah,  what  a  charming  symbol  is  it,  of  the  wild,  unconquer- 
able might  of  Love !  Though  its  cradle  and  its  common 
home  is  on  the  base  glebe,  yet  its  exultations  will  not  be 
weighed  down  and  tamed — but  must  as  well  mount  to  glad- 
den all  above — linking,  in  "subtle  silvery  sweetness"  the 
dust-trodden  with  the  starry  fields!  Shelley  most  beauti- 
fully characterizes  that  marvellous  and  indefinable  sympathy 
between  the  Earth  and  the  Human  Poetry — which  we  have 
been  endeavoring  to  illustrate — in  one  of  the  concluding 
stanzas  to  the  Skylark  ! 

"  Better  than  all  measures, 

Of  delighful  sound ; 
Better  than  all  treasures, 

That  in  books  are  found, 
Thy  skill  to  poet  were,  thou  scorner  of  the  ground." 

But,  ah,  wo  is  me  !     Weep  now,  Urania — thou  eldest  muse 
— for  him  1     That  harmony  paused — • 


174  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIRDS. 

" And  the  spirit  of  that  mighty  singing 

To  its  abyss  was  suddenly  withdrawn." 

"We  have  not  space  for  a  further  extension  of  these 
Similes.  We  will  only  glance  at  a  few  others.  There  is  no 
English  Bird  which  furnishes  a  good  type  of  Keats — this 
Country  affords,  though,  a  perfect  one  in  the  Brown  Thrush, 
or,  as  it  was  most  beautifully,  though  technically  termed, 
"  Orpheus  Kufus."  It  is  inferior  to  the  King  of  Song  in  the 
infinite  variety,  the  triumphant  energy  and  force  of  its  min- 
strelsy. But  we  are  constantly  reminded  of  the  poetry  of 
Keats,  in  the  deep  liquid  rush  of  its  strains  and  the  keen  in- 
tense melody  of  each  particular  note.  Like  him,  it  is  a  plain, 
humble  Bird,  hiding  in  the  low  thickets,  and  only  coming 
forth  to  sing.  Then  it  mounts  upon  the  topmost  pinnacle 
of  the  highest  tree,  that  all  the  world  may  know  of  it — for 
now  it  has  forgotten  its  timid  humility — all  its  heart  is 
big  with  the  melodious  prophecy  of  sound.  Its  mood  of 
worship  is  upon  it,  and  what  cares  it,  or  knows,  that  a  proud, 
cruel  world  lies  at  its  feet,  and  that  it  is  only  mounting  to 
where  every  shaft  may  reach  it.  Death  and  fear  are  no 
more  to  it  now — it  must  sing — and  forth  goes  the  rapt  hymn. 
It  has  become  now 

"  As  one  enamored  is  up-borne  in  dream 
O'er  lily-paven  lake,  'inid  silver  mist, 
To  wondrous  music " 

Wondrous,  but  coming  unconscious,  out  of  its  own  heart. 
Then,  to  we  favored  Human  listeners, 

"  0  blessed  bird,  the  earth  we  pace 

Again  appears  to  be 
An  unsubstantial,  faery  place, 
That  is  fit  home  for  thee." 

It  is  one  of  those  strange  coincidences  we  have  before  no  • 
ticed — that  Keats,  without  ever  having  heard  his  Prototype, 


BIEDS  AND  POETS.  175 

should  have  yet  produced  the  most  exact  and  singularly  mi- 
nute characterization  of  its  peculiar  song — 

" My  sense  was  filled 

With  that  new  blissful  golden  melody. 

A  living  death  was  in  each  gush  of  sounds, 

Each  family  of  rapturous  hurried  notes 

That  fell,  one  after  one,  yet  all  at  once, 

Like  pearl-beads  dropping  sudden  from  their  string, 

And  then  another,  then  another  strain,"  &c. 

The  very  collocation  of  the  words  themselves,  produces 
upon  the  ear  the  effect  of  a  remote  resemblance.  Alas,  poor 
Keats!  The  savage  Archers  reached  him  on  his  airy  perch, 
and  cut  short,  forever3  those  miraculous  strains.  But  though 
now  he  be  "in  his  far  Eome  grave,"  among  "the  sleepers  in 
the  oblivious  valley,"  yet  must  the  echoes  he  has  waked  live 
in  still  reverberations  musical,  through  all  the  enchanted 
caves  of  human  thought.  They  are  deathless,  for  in  him 

"  Language  was  a  perpetual  Orphic  song 
"Which  ruled  with  Dasdal  harmony  a  throng 
Of  thoughts  and  forms." 

But  concerning  "Wordsworth — 

"  Once  have  I  marked  thee  happyest  guest, 
In  all  this  covert  of  the  blest. 
Hail  to  THEE  far  above  the  rest 

In  joy  of  voice  and  pinion ! 
A  life,  a  presence,  like  the  air, 
Scattering  thy  gladness  without  care, 
Too  blest  with  any  one  to  pair  ; 

Thyself  thine  own  enjoyment!" 

The  poet  thus  furnishes  us  to  hand  an  exquisite  charac- 
terization  of  himself  in  the  choir   of  this  "  covert   of  the 
Blest,"  through  whose  shades  we  thus  tardily  "  linger  listen 
ing."     But  which  shall  be  prototype  to  him? 


176  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIKDS. 

"  Art  thou  the  Bird  whom  man  loves  best, 
The  pious  Bird  with  the  scarlet  breast, 
Our  little  English  Robin  ?" 

On  the  highways,  in  the  by -ways,  from  the  green  lanes, 
the  hedge-rows  and  the  gardens,  by  the  lintel  near  the  hearth- 
stone, summer  in  and  winter  out,  under  sunshine,  under 
clouds,  happy,  calm  and  musical,  ever — 

"  A  life,  a  Presence  like  the  air ;" 

over  merry  England  and  the  world  will  Kobin  and  the  Poet 
go  together, 

"  Scattering  gladness  without  care." 

But  the  "Little  English  Robin"  does  not  furnish  a  suffi- 
cient Anti-type  to  the  higher  powers  of  song  which  distin- 
guish "Wordsworth,  as  well  as  these  gentler  graces.  Our 
American  Robin,  which  belongs  to  the  Shaksperian  family 
of  "  The  Turdinae,"  which  includes  the  Mocking  Bird  and 
the  Song  Thrush,  is,  in  a  better  sense,  his  Anti-type. 

This  Bird  is  as  well  a  social  familiar,  and  builds  its  woven 
nest  upon  the  limb  that  leans  nearest  the  homestead  walls. 
Many  a  time  have  we  seen  it,  about  dusk,  catch  the  fire-flies 
within  ten  feet  of  the  door-sill — as  if  it  swallowed  the  weird 
light  to  feed  and  go  flashing  through  the  tender  magic  of  its 
vesper  hymn !  And  ah  !  who — that  has  heard  that  vesper 
hymn,  beneath  the  last  golden  pauses  of  the  twilight,  swell 
out  as  if  it  took  the  plaintive  echo,  of  a  saddened  Human 
heart  for  key-note,  and  set  it  in  gradations  up  through  the 
soft  notes  of  Hope  to  the  shrilly  clamors  of  a  Joy  set  free, 
chastened  by  the  memory  of  prison  bars — will  fail  to  under- 
stand how  the  American  Eobin  is  the  true  Anti-type  of 
Wordsworth ! 

But  with  thee,  venerable  and  most  venerated  melodist ! 
11  Sunset  is  on  the  dial,"  and  soon  we  may  expect  thee  to  be 


BIRDS   AND   POETS.  177 

numbered  with  "  The  Prophets  Old."  Though  thy  head  is 
silvered.  Time  clothes  himself  in  gray  when  his  topmost 
deeds  of  wisest  strength  are  to  be  done,  and,  in  the  language 
of  another  daring  Singer,  to  whom,  like  this  Kobin,  our  new 
world  has  given  birth,  we  would  address  thee  on  this  dread- 
ful pause  betwixt  Sublimity  and  Death : 

"  Then  let  the  sunset  fall  and  flush  Life's  Dial ! 
No  matter  how  the  years  may  smite  my  frame, 
And  cast  a  piteous  blank  upon  my  eyes 
That  seek  in  vain  the  old,  accustomed  stars, 
Which  skies  hold  over  blue  Winandermere, 
Be  sure  that  I  a  crowned  Bard  will  sing, 
Until  within  the  murmuring  barque  of  verse 
My  Spirit  bears  majestically  away, 
Charming  to  golden  hues  the  gulf  of  death — 
Well  knowing  that  upon  my  honored  grave, 
Beside  the  widowed  lakes  that  wail  for  me, 
Haply  the  dust  of  four  great  worlds  will  fall 
And  mingle — thither  brought  by  Pilgrim's  feet." 

Byron  stands  in  singular  contrast  with  Wordsworth.  Of 
Wordsworth's  calm,  slumberous,  Oceanic  mind,  Earth  is 
populous  with  Similitudes ;  but  of  Byron  our  Mother  fur- 
nishes no  Anti-type.  We  know  of  no  sentient  natural  thing 
upon  her  broad  placid  bosom  which  symbolizes  him — and 
unless  we  adopt  the  old  Greek  Fancy,  and  embody  the  dis- 
tortions of  Human  action  and  passion  in  scenes  like  those  in 

which 

" the  half  horsy  people,  Centaurs  hight, 

Fought  with  the  bloudie  Lapithies  at  bord," 

we  are  utterly  at  a  loss  to  conceive  how  he  is  to  be  illustrated. 
We  might  create  some  monstrous  cross  of  the  dull,  filthy, 
ravin-hearted  Vulture  upon  the  beamy,  bounding  Lark,  and 
thereby  make  a  tame  "  similitude"  of  him  to  the  apprehen- 
sion of  the  shadow-substanced  Citizens  of  "  Faery"  !  But  to 
the  Common  World  Wordsworth  has  quietly  and  fitly  de- 
signated his  hybrid  entity,  when  he  says  : 

12 


178  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIEDS. 

" thou  surely  art 

A  creature  of  a  fiery  heart ; 

Those  notes  of  thine,  they  pierce  and  pierce 

Tumultuous  harmony  and  fierce." 

We  cannot  dwell  longer  in  the  atmosphere  of  Him  who 
tortured  music  through  his  whole  dissonant  volcanic  life  into 
singing — that 

"  Our  life  is  a  false  nature — 'tis  not  in 
The  harmony  of  things — this  hard  decree, 
This  uneradicable  taint  of  sin — 
This  boundless  Upas,"  &c. 

We  do  not  recognize  him  among  "  God's  Prophets,"  who 
eternally  cant  of 

"  The  immedicable  soul  with  heart-aches  ever  new." 

There  is  an  equal  difficulty  in  finding  any  distinct  Anti- 
type of  Coleridge — though  not  for  the  same  cause.  His  mag- 
nificent Genius  hangs  upon  the  Times  like  some  clouded 
mystic  Fantasy. 

"  Up  from  the  lake  a  shape  of  golden  dew, 
Between  two  rocks  athwart  the  rising  moon, 
Dances  i'the  wind  where  eagle  never  flew." 

Though  there  is  a  Bird — as  yet  unknown  and  unclassified 
of  Naturalists — we  heard  of,  and  saw  a  single  specimen  of, 
in  Mexico,  which  fully  expresses  him.  It  is  of  a  very  splen- 
did plumage  and  most  miraculous  powers  of  song,  and  the 
superstitious  natives  hold  it  in  great  veneration.  It  haunts 
the  deep  groves  about  the  old  Catholic  Missions,  and  they 
say  is  often  heard  to  imitate  from  its  hidden  coverts  the 
strains  and  voices  of  the  Nuns  singing  their  Aves  to  the  Vir- 
gin. We  heard  it  singing  one  night,  and -shall  never  forget 
the  wild  unearthly  mellowness  of  that  song — 


BIKDS  AND   POETS.  179 

" and  all  the  place 

Was  filled  with  magic  sounds  woven  into  one 
Oblivious  melody,  confusing  sense." 

So  this  stranger  from  a  "far  countrie/' 

" a  Bird  more  bright 


Than  those  of  fabulous  stock," 

can  alone  stand  as  Anti-type  of  the  weird  melodist  of  Chris 
tabel  and  the  Ancient  Mariner. 

The  same  difficulty  presents  itself  with  regard  to  the  gor- 
geous metaphysical  Genius  of  Old  Spenser.  We  shall  have 
to  find  his  Anti-type  in  that  peopled  realm  of  majestic 
shadows  where  he  lived.  We  see 

u  A  Bird  all  white,  well  feathered  on  each  wing, 
Hereout  up  to  the  throne  of  God  did  flie, 
And  all  the  way  most  pleasaunt  notes  did  sing, 
Whilst  in  the  smoak  she  unto  heaven  did  stie." 

And  are  we  not  satisfied — filled  to  the  fulness  of  repletion 
— with  the  beauty  of  the  "  Similitude  ?"  But  we  have 
already  sufficiently  extended  our  recreations  in  this  sunny 
latitude  of  charming  thought.  There  are  very  many  Simili- 
tudes of  equal  appropriateness  and  loveliness  which  present 
themselves.  These  are  the  chiefest.  As  for  the  smaller 
flock,  we  will  only  say  in  the  quaint  simile  of  Spenser : 

"  The  Nightingale  is  Sovereigne  of  song  : 
Before  him  sits  the  titmouse,  silent  bee." 

Here  we  dismiss  this,  to  us,  inexpressibly  delightful  theme. 

"  So  let  it  glide,  like  a  bright-footed  dream, 
Out  of  the  chambers  of  our  daily  life  !" 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


DKOLLERIES   OF   THE   WOODS. 


THE  BLUE  JAY. 


JAY!  Jay!  Jay!  Hilloa  I— What's  to  pay  ?  What  shrill 
clamor  breaks  upon  the  silence  of  the  dark  woods,  like  a 
watchman's  rattle,  sudden  on  the  midnight — Jay !  Ja-a-a-ay  ! 
in  prolonged  and  angry  shriek  answers  the  alarm,  from 
a  thicket  near  at  hand.  Jay !  sharp  and  shrill,  takes  up  the 
cry  yet  from  the  distance,  until  far  and  wide  the  woods  re- 
echo with  the  clang  of  the  gathering  guardians  of  the  wild  ! 

The  intruder  stands  mute  in  astonishment,  at  this  unlooked- 
for  outbreak.  They  come!  they  come!  They  gather  yet 
more  fiercely  about  him.  See  there  !  a  saucy  fellow  has  de- 
scended, limb  by  limb,  a  tree  close  by,  screaming  yet  louder 
as  he  comes  more  near,  with  crest  erect,  spread  tail,  and 
sharp,  fierce  eyes,  and  with  snapping  beak,  seems  ready  to 
devour  the  unoffending  stranger  in  his  wrath.  With  many 
an  antic  pirouette,  it  peers  into  his  face,  and  turning  to  its 
noisy  fellows,  now  gathered  close  behind  to  back  its  valorous 
charge,  shrieks  the  report  of  its  inquisition,  to  urge  their 
tardy  courage  on. 

"  What  ho  !  my  friends,  am  I  a  robber  or  a  thief!"  the  be- 
wildered hunter  may  remonstrate.  But  the  answer  is  in 
yet  fiercer  cries,  until  they  dance  above  his  head  in  a  fan- 
tastic ecstasy  of  fierceness,  and  yell  their  deafening  gibes 
and  taunts  into  his  ears.  Patience  has  bounds:  one  shot 


DROLLEKIES  OF  THE  WOODS  181 

into  their  midst — ha !  ha ! — what  a  scurrying !  Silence  in- 
stantaneous, and  how  profound ! 

"Whither  have  the  brave  and  clamorous  champions  of  the 
old  wood  fled  ?  Gone !  gone  ! — not  a  blue  coat  or  a  brag- 
gart top-knot  to  be  seen — ah  me  !  It  is  a  deceitful  world, 
and  valor  is  a  most  deceitful  virtue. 

The  Blue  Jay  is  the  very  Falstaff  of  heroes,  and  Jack  was 
never  more  ready — aye  faith,  than  Jay — to  fight  nine  knights 
in  Buckram-green,  and  with  his  dinted  sword  to  make  loud 
boasts  thereof.  But  our  knave  has  fun  in  him  as  well ; 
therefore  we  can  afford  him  seeming  pardon,  for  never  Merry 
Andrew  took  a  kick  so  well.  It  almost  seems  a  sin  to  be  so 
serious  with  him,  and  yet  the  fellow  has  enough  of  ugly  mis- 
chief in  him  too.  His  long  list  of  accomplishments,  begin- 
ning at  braggart  and  poltroon,  may  most  properly  be  wound 
up  with  dandy  and  thief.  He  is  that  very  Prince  of  dandies 
that,  in  olden  times,  was  generally  called  Popinjay,  and 
which  has  been  modernized  into  Grammont,  Brummel,  or 
D'Orsay.  He  is  certainly  the  most  felicitous  specimen  of  the 
exquisite  that  ever  wore  plumes,  whether  borrowed  or  not. 
The  natural  inference  would  be,  that  they  were  borrowed 
from  his  inveterate  propensity  for  pilfering  from  his  neigh- 
bors, but  that  the  beauty  of  the  plumage  which  really  be- 
longs to  him,  relieves  him  from  the  imputation  of  any  such 
necessity. 

See  him,  of  a  fine  Spring  morning,  in  love-making  time ! 
— and  oh !  ye  comely  gallants,  ye  swash-buckler  knights, 
that  haunt  about  the  environs  of  gay  Dan  Cupid's  court, 
away  with  your  swelling  airs,  you  fanfaronade  of  mincing 
courtesies,  and  dainty  terms — ye  are  all  eclipsed — away  ! 
The  transcendent  graces  of  yon  blue-plumed  Euphuist  of  the 
acorn  tree,  doth  so  utterly  surpass  ye  all,  that  your  diminish- 
ed heads  were  best  hidden  now,  in  very  shame.  See  him 
raise  up  and  down  upon  the  mossy  limb,  his  gay  crest  bent 
in  quick  and  frequent  salutation,  while  a  rich,  round,  thril- 
ling love-note,  rolls  liquidly  from  off  his  honeyed  tongue. 


182  WILD  SCENES  AND   SONG-BIRDS. 

Then  see  him  spring  in  air  with  his  wide  wings,  azure  and 
white,  and  dark  barred,  graceful  tail,  spread  to  the  admiring 
gaze  of  her  he  woos,  float  round  and  round  her  passive  form ; 
then  to  return  again  in  rapturous  fervor  to  her  side,  to  over- 
whelm her  glowing  charms  with  yet  more  subduing  graces. 

But  the  fun  of  it  all  is,  to  see  our  Euphuist  practicing  these 
seductive  arts  by  himself.  You  will  often  catch  him  alone, 
thus  making  love  to  his  own  beauty,  with  an  ardor  fully 
equal  to  that  of  the  scene  we  have  just  described.  Indeed, 
I  am  not  sure  that  it  does  not  surpass  it.  For,  like  other 
dandies,  he  is  most  in  love  with  his  own  beauty.  It  is  the 
richest  and  most  fantastic  scene  I  know  of,  among  the  comic- 
alities of  the  natural  world,  to  catch  him  in  one  of  these 
practicing  humors:  he  does  court  to  his  own  charms  with 
such  a  gay  and  earnest  enthusiasm ;  he  apes  all  the  gestures, 
and  the  love-lorn  notes  of  his  seemingly  volcanic  amours, 
and  turning  his  head  back,  to  gaze  on  his  own  fine  coat  with 
such  fantastic  earnest,  that  one  can  scarcely  resist  roaring 
with  laughter. 

We  like  the  impish  philosophy  that  can  thus  burlesque  its 
own  follies.  But  his  accomplishments,  as  we  have  hinted, 
are  multifarious.  Understand,  we  do  not  by  any  means  set 
out  to  defend  the  morals,  but  the  character  of  our  friend  Jay. 
We  are  opposed,  in  principle,  to  using  hard  names,  especially 
to  so  courtly  a  personage  as  this ;  but,  in  plain  truth,  we 
must  say,  as  we  before  insinuated,  that  he  is  one  of  the  most 
arrant  of  thiefs  and  plunderers.  In  addition  to  the  assumed 
character  of  knightly  defender  of  the  wide  woods  against 
all  intrusive  comers,  he  takes  upon  himself  the  superlative 
one  of  care-taker  and  inspector-general  of  his  neighbor's 
nests.  So  great  is  his  solicitude  in  their  behoof,  that  the  mo- 
ment his  watchful  eye  perceives  that  the  weary  parents  have 
left  the  nest  for  food  and  recreation,  he  directly  glides  into 
their  places,  and  lest  some  harm  from  cunning  snake  or  mis- 
chievous squirrel  should  come  to  the  dear  speckled  treasures, 
he  takes  one  after  another  to  his  warm  bosom,  or  his  crap  ; 


DKOLLEKIES   OF  THE   WOODS.  183 

rather  meekly  reasoning  to  himself,  the  while,  that  the  poor 
birds  should  be  consoled  that  so  benevolent  a  friend  as  he 
had  rescued  them  from  the  wily  snake,  or  other  hard-hearted 
foes.  Jay,  indeed,  is  particularly  famous  for  his  tender  heart ; 
for  suddenly  discovering  that  all  kind  of  provender  is  get 
ting  scarce,  he  is  seized  with  harrowing  apprehensions  lest 
the  young  of  his  neighbor,  Grosbeak,  should  suffer  from 
hunger,  or  the  poor,  dear  parents  overwork  themselves  in 
finding  supplies  for  their  hungry  mouths,  and  to  prevent  such 
lingering  suffering,  he  glides  slyly  to  the  nest,  and,  with  the 
stern  heroism  of  the  Eoman  Brutus,  subduing  all  natural 
weakness  in  the  sense  of  official  duty,  devours  the  young  to 
save  them  from  the  dreadful  pangs  of  hunger.  This  severe 
duty  is,  of  course,  performed  by  this  self-denying  Lictor  of 
the  people,  in  the  absence  of  the  parents  Grosbeak.  Not, 
that  he  fears  them — not  he !  He  let  the  male  Grosbeak  give 
him  an  awful  thrashing  the  other  day,  to  be  sure,  because  he 
had  been  caught  by  him  in  that  neighborhood;  but,  then,  it 
was  more  in  pity  than  in  anger,  that  he  had  submitted  with 
philosophy,  for  he  well  knew  that  the  benighted  bird  did  not 
appreciate  the  benevolent  purpose  which  had  brought  him 
there ;  and,  then  in  coming  in  his  absence,  he  had  spared 
him  the  pain  of  witnessing  what  this  most  unpleasant  duty 
cost  his  official  dignity.  The  executioner  should  never  show 
a  weakness ! 

So  jealous  is  he,  too,  of  his  sole  prerogative  of  supervision 
over  the  interests  and  welfare  of  his  neighbors — indeed,  of  the 
whole  community — for  no  one  can  be  better  imagined  as 
saying : — 

"  No  pent  up  Utica  contracts  our  powers, 
The  whole  boundless  universe  (of  eggs  and  fleclgings)  is  ours," 

— that  he  is  forever  on  the  look-out  for  all  interloping  strag- 
glers who  may  chance  to  have  given  way  to  the  same  weak- 
ness of  appetite.  Every  Eaccoon  that  shows  his  inquisitive 
nose,  is  assailed  with  vehement  clamors  and  furious  snap- 


184  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIRDS. 

pings  of  beaks,  which  compels  him  in  terror  for  his  eyes,  to 
retreat  to  his  hole. 

It  is  said  that  some  Spanish  gentlemen,  who  were  in  New 
York  at  the  time  of  the  death  of  General  Taylor,  attributed 
this  untimely  event  to  the  fear  and  anxieties  growing  out  of 
a  prospect  of  a  collision  with  the  terrible  power  of  Spain ! 
It  is  for  much  the  same  reason  that  our  friend  Jay  is  said  to 
attribute  the  nocturnal  habits  of  Eaccoons,  "Wildcats,  Op- 
possums,  Owls,  &c.,  to  their  apprehension  of  his  valorous  vig- 
ilance by  daylight.  Be  the  facts  of  the  case  what  they 
may,  no  one  of  these  gentry,  nor  snake,  nor  mink,  nor  weasel, 
can  make  its  appearance  without  being  beset  by  the  obstrep- 
erous screams  of  this  audacious  knave.  Nor  does  he  confine 
his  operations  to  the .  defence  of  his  foraging  ground  from 
these  depredators,  from  whom  he  has  little  to  fear  of  personal 
danger  on  account  of  his  superior  activity.  But  he  even, 
sometimes,  dares  assail  the  lightning-winged  and  lordly 
Hawk.  These  affairs  are  very  characteristic  and  very  amus- 
ing, and  I  have  frequently  witnessed  them.  If  our  friends 
happen  to  be  in  the  open  ground  and  the  warning  cry  of 
"  the  Hawk  is  coming,"  spreads  startling  through  the  fields 
among  the  feathered  people,  the  foremost  in  the  scattering 
flight,  they  dart  into  the  lowest  thicket,  or  skulk  beneath  the 
grass  and  weeds,  until  the  dreaded  tyrant,  sweeping  past  on 
overcoming  wings,  plunges  with  some  shrieking  victim  in  his 
talons,  into  the  neighboring  forest  to  tear  it  at  his  ease. 

Now,  one  after  one,  these  valiant  knights  appear,  shaking 
themselves  while  they  crawl  forth  as  if  they  would  scatter 
all  foul  imputation  on  the  air.  Now  a  timid  Ja-ay !  is  heard. 
Then  another  joins  the  modest  cry,  and  another  yet  more 
boldly,  until  the  reveille  is  fairly  sounded.  All  the  wood  at 
once  is  ringing  with  the  alarm,  and  now  our  knaves  are  in 
their  glory.  They  gather  about  the  bloody  tyrant,  with  wild, 
besieging  shrieks,  but  he  is  feasting,  and  cannot  deign  to  no- 
tice, now,  the  noise.  They  grow  more  bold  with  impunity, 
and  all  the  small  birds  for  a  mile  round,  are  gathered  there 


DROLLERIES   OF  THE   WOODS.  185 

to  back  them — roused  by  the  alarm — and  even  the  clamor- 
ous crow,  brings  too  his  sooty  phiz  to  give  them  countenance. 
Thus  reinforced,  they  even  dare  to  strike  at  the  passive  rob- 
ber, and  so  inflame  the  valor  of  their  force,  that  even  the 
Tom-tit  brushes  by  his  kingly  crest,  in  spiteful  rage.  Our 
cunning  friends  know  well,  that  should  their  foe  lose  pa- 
tience, and  condescend  to  strike  at  his  tormenters,  that  their 
shorter  wings  and  quicker  motions  among  the  thick  forest 
boughs,  would  ensure  them  their  escape.  A  few  unsuccess- 
ful feints  the  wary  Hawk  has  made,  (for  he  has  now  finished 
his  meal,)  has  filled  them  with  excessive  confidence,  and  now 
they  absolutely  dare  to  buffet  him,  while  he  takes  wing,  all 
panic-struck  to  find  some  more  quiet  refuge,  followed  by  all 
the  flock  of  warlike  brawlers,  exulting  in  his  wake.  The 
fugitive  has  bent  his  flight,  all  unawares,  of  course !  towards 
where  the  forest  is  more  open,  his  heedless  pursuers  hurrying 
pell-mell  after  him.  The  open  spot  is  gained,  and  his  broad 
pinions  have  now  room  to  cleave.  One  fell  backward  swoop, 
and  all  is  silence !  save  the  dismal  squall  of  the  one  captive 
Jay,-  who  was  the  foremost  knight  of  all,  and  led  that  rabble 
rout !  Where,  where  are  his  brave  peers  now  ?  Echo  an- 
swers, and  so  does  his  dying  screech  ! 

So  we  see  that  Mr.  Jay  is  subject  to  some  of  the  vicissi- 
tudes of  war,  and  with  all  his  cunning  strategy,  it  is  some- 
times turned  upon  himself!  This  is,  moreover,  sometimes 
illustrated  too,  quite  pathetically  in  his  case,  when,  returning 
some  fine  morning  from  a  neighborly  round,  during  which 
he  had  sucked  the  eggs  from  half  a  dozen  nests,  he  finds,  to 
his  dismay,  that  there  are  more  benevolent  people  in  the  world 
than  himself,  and  that  the  Butcher-bird  or  Crow,  has  been 
taking  the  occasion  to  pay  him  their  respects  in  turn  ;  or,  the 
Black  Snake,  having  seized  the  opportunity  to  embrace  his 
mate,  whom  he  left  brooding  quietly  upon  the  nest,  is  now 
preparing  to  swallow  her  crushed  body,  having  disposed  of 
the  eggs  or  young  beforehand.  It  is  then,  no  doubt,  he  is 


186  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIRDS. 

made  to  feel,  as  a  public  officer,  that  tlie  way  of  duty  is  some- 
times hard,  indeed. 

But  it  is  toward  the  hunter  that  our  acquaintance  manages 
to  display  some  of  his  most  benevolently  officious  traits. 
Every  animal  that  ranges  the  forest  is  familiar  with  his  alarm 
notes  and  watchfully  attentive  to  them ;  they  can  tell  on  the 
instant,  the  meaning  of  the  cries,  and  to  what  kind  of  intru- 
sion they  refer — whether  it  be  fox,  or  wolf,  owl,  snake,  or 
man,  and  deport  themselves  accordingly.  In  every  kind  of 
hunting  for  large  game,  they  feel  themselves  called  upon  to 
take  a  hand.  In  "  driving  "  for  deer,  you  have  been  placed 
at  your  "  stand,"  far  away  from  any  sound  of  the  coming 
hunt,  in  some  solitary  place,  deep  in  the  shadowy  forest ; 
rifle  in  hand  you  have  paced  restlessly  back  and  forth,  lis- 
tening to  your  own  heart  beat,  or  starting  when  the  squirrel 
throws  an  acorn  down,  or  the  red-capped  creeper  scales  the 
dry  bark  from  the  limbs  above,  until  you  grow  weary  with 
waiting,  impatient  of  the  silence,  and  shower  imprecations 
on  the  unlucky  "  driver  "  and  his  worthless  hounds — when, 
suddenly  a  sound,  borne  faint  upon  the  winds,  thrills  through 
every  nerve.  Now,  still  as  any  oak-stem  of  them  all,  you 
listen,  bending  towards  the  sound.  Harkl  Hark!  again! 
again !  the  sound  swells  out.  It  is  the  pack — the  game  is  on 
foot !  And  now  the  air  is  burdened  with  the  heavy  roll,  of 
burst  upon  burst,  swept  fitfully  by,  as  the  eager  pack  rush 
down  the  valley,  or  climb  the  opposing  ridge  in  the  swift 
changes  of  the  headlong  chase.  Now  the  face  turns  pale — 
the  rifle  is  clutched  hard — the  trembling  nerves  grow  taut  as 
steel. 

Hark !  that  wild,  musical  roar  !  They  are  close  at  hand 
— the  quarry  must  be  near !  Now  is  the  moment  when  si- 
lence is  worth  a  world  to  the  eager  huntsman  :  the  cracking 
of  a  stick  may  ruin  all,  for  the  deer,  he  knows,  is  listening 
warily,  and  may  be  even  now  within  gun-shot.  He  holds 
his  very  breath ;  another  roar  from  the  fierce  pack  yet  closer 
still,  when  a  sudden  shriek  close  to  his  ear — Jay !  jay !  jay ! 


DEOLLEEIES  OF  THE  WOODS.  187 

Oh,  fury  !  he  sees  the  bushes  bend — he  hears  the  bound- 
ing crash — too  late  !  The  deer  has  turned  upon  its  track — • 
he  heard  the  alarm. 

Our  hunter  may  be  a  philosopher,  but  most  likely  his  ball 
will  be  sent  along  with  his  curse,  after  the  Jay,  who,  with 
impish  clamors,  flies  off  through  the  echoing  woods  in  scathe- 
less glee. 

This  is  not,  by  any  means,  the  only  joke  our  friend  man- 
ages to  perpetrate  upon  those  whose  pursuits  carry  them,  into 
the  fastnesses  of  his  haunts.  The  pine-log  cutters  at  the 
North  know  him  well,  and  bestow  upon  him  many  a  bless- 
ing from  the  wrong  side  of  the  mouth.  The  deep  snow  is 
raked  away,  and  the  camp  is  pitched  beneath  the  gloomy 
shelter  of  the  heavy  pines — scarcely  has  the  odor  of  the  first 
roast  steamed  through  the  rare  air,  and  freighted  every  biting 
wind,  when,  with  hungry  cries,  from  every  side,  the  Jays 
come  gathering  in.  But  here  our  particular  acquaintance,  the 
Blue  Jay,  with  all  his  blustering  and  obstreperous  vanity,  is 
obliged  to  play  second  fiddle  to  his  cousin-german  and  mas- 
ter, the  Canada  Jay,  who  not  only  drubs  him  soundly  when 
they  meet,  but,  on  occasion,  even  makes  a  meal  of  him. 
They  swarm  about  the  camp  in  hundreds,  and,  such  is  their 
audacity  when  hard  pinched  with  hunger,  that  they  are  fre- 
quently seen  to  dash  at  the  meat  roasting  before  the  fire,  and 
hot  as  it  is,  bear  pieces  off  till  they  can  cool  it  in  the  snow. 
They  are  regarded  with  singular  aversion  by  these  hardy 
men  ;  for,  take  what  precautions  they  may,  they  are  often 
robbed  to  such  serious  extent  by  these  persevering  depreda- 
tors, as  to  be  reduced  to  suffering.  They  dare  not  leave  any 
article  that  can  be  carried  off  within  their  reach.  When 
they  kill  game  and  leave  it  hung  up  until  the  hunt  is  over, 
the  Jays  assemble  in  hundreds,  and  frequently  tear  it  in  pieces 
before  their  return. 

The  plumage  of  the  Canada  Jay  is  very  curious,  and  some 
of  its  notes  are  the  strangest  and  most  peculiar  sounds  to  be 
heard  in  our  forests.  The  northern  hunter,  log-drivers  and 


188  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIRDS. 

cutters,  have  many  superstitions  with  regard  to  this  bird,  and 
tell  some  droll  stories  of  its  humors  and  feats.  It  is  said, 
among  other  things,  to  drive  off  or  exterminate  our  hero,  the 
Blue  Jay,  before  very  long,  wherever  it  makes  its  appearance. 

There  is  a  more  delicate  and  beautiful  variety  than  either 
of  them,  and  better  behaved,  too,  by  the  way ;  for  it  pos- 
sesses, among  other  accomplishments,  some  very  sweet  notes. 
It  belongs  to  the  extreme  South,  and  is  not  found  north  of 
Louisiana.  There  is  also  yet  another,  a  more  beautiful  va- 
riety still,  which  has  lately  been  discovered  in  California, 
Cyanocorax  Luxuosus. 

The  Blue  Jay  has  many  of  the  traits  of  the  Magpie,  and, 
like  him,  possesses  an  inveterate  propensity  for  hiding  every- 
thing he  can  lay  hold  of  in  the  shape  of  food.  The  Magpie 
hides  things  that  are  of  no  value,  as  well ;  but  our  Jay  is  in 
every  respect  a  utilitarian,  and  when,  after  feeding  to  reple- 
tion, he  is  seen  to  busy  himself  for  hours  in  sticking  an  acorn 
here,  or  a  beach-nut  there,  in  a  knot-hole,  or  wedging  snails 
between  the  splinters  of  some  lightning-shivered  trunk,  or 
making  deposits  beneath  the  sides  of  decaying  logs,  natural- 
ists wonder  what  he  is  doing  it  for.  But  our  Euphuist  knows 
well  enough,  and  you  may  rest  assured,  if  you  see  him  along 
that  way  next  winter,  as  you  will  be  apt  to,  if  you  watch, 
you  will  find  that  he  has  not  forgotten  the  place  of  one  sin- 
gle deposit ;  and  that,  with  a  shrewder  economy  than  the 
Ant  or  the  Squirrel,  instead  of  heaping  up  his  winter  store 
in  one  granary,  where  a  single  accident  may  deprive  him  of 
all,  he  has  scattered  them  here  and  there,  in  a  thousand  dif- 
ferent spots,  the  record  of  which  is  kept  in  his  own  memory ; 
so  that  it  cannot  be  denied,  whatever  may  be  said  of  his 
thieving  and  other  dubious  propensities,  that  the  Blue  Jay 
is  a  decidedly  sagacious  personage — so  far  as  a  pains-taking 
care  of  that  No.  one,  of  which  we  have  found  him 
to  be  so  desperately  smitten,  is  concerned.  There  is 
also  a  variety  of  the  Wood-pecker  in  California,  Melan- 
erpes  formidvorus  (Swains),  which  carries  this  propensity 


DKOLLERIES   OF  THE   WOODS.  189 

to  an  extraordinary  extreme.  It  bores  innumerable  little 
holes  in  the  bark  and  trunks  of  trees,  in  each  of  which  it 
wedges  firmly  an  acorn  with  its  bill.  They  may  be  heard 
hammering  away  at  this  work  the  live-long  day.  The  whole 
family  of  squirrels — all  the  burrowing  animals  together,  with 
many  other  birds  besides  those  enumerated,  have  this  same 
propensity  for  hiding  their  food  in  the  ground  or  elsewhere. 
It  is  thus  preserved  from  decay,  and  whether  used  by  the 
creature  depositing  them  or  not,  they  grow  into  trees  and  re- 
new the  earth  with  vegetation. 

Thus  do  these  little  creatures,  in  the  economy  of  nature, 
become  the  planters  of  our  forests. 

So  universal  is  the  Blue  Jay's  reputation  for  mischievous 
and  impish  tricks  of  every  kind,  that  the  negroes  of  the 
South  regard  them  with  a  strange  mixture  of  superstition 
and  deadly  hate.  The  belief  among  them  is,  that  it  is  the 
special  agent  of  the  devil  here  on  earth — carries  tales  to  him 
and  all  kinds  of  slanderous  gossip,  particularly  about  negroes, 
and  most  especially  that  they  supply  him  with  fuel  to  burn 
them  with.  Their  animosity  is  entirely  genuine  and  implac- 
able. 

When  a  boy,  I  caught  many  of  them  in  traps,  during  the 
snows,  and  the  negro  boys  who  generally  accompanied  me 
on  my  rounds  to  the  traps,  always  begged  eagerly  for  the  Jay 
Birds  we  captured  to  be  surrendered  to  them,  and  the  next 
instant  their  necks  were  wrung  amid  the  shouts  of  laughter. 

Alas,  for  the  fate  of  our  feathered  Euphuist ! — yet  he  was 
"  a  fellow  of  infinite  wit !" 


CHAPTER   IX. 

MY    PET    WOOD    THRUSHES. 

I  DO  not  wonder  that  the  world  is  full  of  superstition,  and 
that  men  talk  vaguely,  as  if  they  were  in  a  dream  of  the 

"  Angels  and  ministers  of  grace" 

belonging  to  another  sphere,  when  they  know  so  little  of  the 
divine  realities  of  this ! 

How  many  of  them,  for  instance,  know  anything  of  the 
Thrush — that  present  angel  of  the  solemn  woods  ?  I  ven- 
ture, there  are  not  ten  men  out  of  a  thousand,  that  call  them- 
selves intelligent,  who  can  go  into  the  woods  with  you  of  a 
summer  morning,  and  point  out  which  is  the  Wood  Thrush, 
or  tell  you,  amidst  the  choir,  which  strain  belongs  to  it. 
They  may  notice  the  right  bird,  but  be  sure  they  do  not 
know  it  as  the  Wood  Thrush ;  and  they  will  give  you  some 
other  name — as  Wood  Kobin,  Ground  Nightingale,  &c.;  but 
even  then,  they  will  seldom  fail  to  identify  the  notes  for  you 
--and  yet  they  have  been  hearing  them — unless  they've 
lived  in  cities — all  their  live-long  days,  and  feeling  them  too, 
if  they  have  any  souls  to  feel  with.  It  is  one  of  the  most 
common  song-birds  we  have  in  our  woods — is,  literally,  what 
Wordsworth  calls  the  little  English  Eobin, 


-a  joy, 


A  presence  like  the  air  ! 
and  yet  I  believe  there  is  less  correctly  and  generally  known 


MY  PET  WOOD  THRUSHES.  191 

of  it,  than  of  almost  any  other  bird  within  the  limits  of  set- 
tlement on  the  Continent.  Now,  the  question,  why  is  this  ? 
admits  of  many  a  sage  answer ;  but  I  say  it  is  simply  be- 
cause men  have  sold  "  their  birth-right  for  the  mess  of  pot- 
tage." They  were  born  with  the  gift  to  know  their  angels, 
but,  in  their  progressive  obesity,  they  are  worse  than  Abra- 
ham of  old,  and  seldom  make  the  mistake  of  entertaining 
them  even  in  disguise.  The  clear  seraphic  vision  of  child- 
hood, which  once  could  see  the  halo  and  the  folded  wings, 
stares  now  through  the  dim  medium  of  worldly  grease  and 
dust,  upon  what  may  seem  a  mystery  or  a  monster.  We  are 
born  in  God  and  nature,  and  so  long  as  we  remain  un vitiated, 
there  is  no  such  thing  as  mystery  and  fear — for  love  is  our 
pure  enlightener,  and  faith  maketh  sport  of  fear — but,  as 
the  world  wags,  the  same  child  that  could  smile  in  confiding 
wonder  amidst  the  rock  of  elemental  war,  and  toy  with  the 
very  bolts  of  heaven,  as  with  its  own  rattle,  would,  as  a  man, 
tremble  at  a  moon-thrown  shadow,  or  faint  if  a  donkey  should 
bray  of  a  sudden  in  the  dark.  The  farther  from  birth  the 
farther  from  nature,  is  almost  a  truism,  and  to  the  rheumy 
vision  of  age  we  owe  the  ghostly  forms  of  superstition.  As 
men  become  more  and  more  besotted  in  the  worship  of  the 
golden  calf  they  have  formed  to  themselves,  so  do  the  reali- 
ties of  beauty  and  harmony  about  them  become  as  common 
and  unclean — they  cannot  see  them,  neither  can  they  Ifear — 
and  then  with  dim  and  morbid  yearnings  for  more  exalted 
communion,  they  turn  to  the  shadow  realm  of  sickly  dream, 
and  "  call  up  spirits  from  the  vasty  deep"  of  superstition,  to 
minister  to  their  craven  appetites,  and  bring  them  the  empty 
visions  of  a  servile  bliss.  With  the  best  of  us,  those  voices 
which  spoke  to  our  young  sense  in  lofty  themes  have  lost  their 
meaning,  and  now  they  seem  wise  indeed  in  their  day  and 
generation  who  can  invoke  even  the  echoes  of  that  innocent 
time,  and  name  them  by  holy  names — their  comforters  ! 

Who  knows  the  little  Wood  Thrush  for  a  comforter? — 
and  yet,  ye  children  of  mammon,  it  was  the  first  sweet  singer 


192  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIKDS. 

that  sang  a  cheering  song  from  out  the  primeval  forests  here 
unto  your  fathers.  The  wolves  had  howled  their  greeting  in 
chorus  to  the  wintry  winds,  but  the  gentle  salutation  of  the 
"Wood  Thrush  came,  the  earliest  harbinger  of  Spring  and 
hope.  Seeming  as  though  the  spirit  of  solitude  that  had  so 
long  infused  those  hoary  aisles  with  harmony,  of  whispering 
boughs,  now  clothed  its  daedal  hymn  in  voice  most  meet  for 
human  ear,  and  came  in  that  plumed  form  to  bid  the  weary- 
wanderers  welcome  to  the  new  empire  nature  yielded.  What 
a  welcome !  Conquerors  never  found  such.  A  melody  that 
haunted  every  shade,  and  filled  the  ear  of  silence,  where, 
deep  within,  she  leaned  upon  her  mossy  couch  to  listen — 
touched  their  rude  hearts  with  its  tender  spell,  and  fired 
their  souls  with  loftier  daring ;  for  that  clear,  loud  and  mel- 
low minstrelsy  was  to  them  as  the  first  fresh  song  of  free- 
dom on  a  new-found  earth.  Was  not  the  little  bird  then  a 
comforter  to  these,  the  hardy  pioneers  of  freedom  ?  Their 
stout  souls  found  fittest  inspiration  in  its  real  voice,  for  actual 
deeds  that  have  lived  after  them  in  honor.  Above  the  turmoil 
of  their  rough  struggle  with  the  elements,  the  savage  beasts 
and  more  ferocious  savages,  that  gentle  song  rose  ever  in  its 
wild  and  sweet  recall  to  win  the  soothed  Passions  back  to 
peace  and  calm  repose.  Men,  however  stern  and  embittered 
by  unceasing  conflict,  do  not  easily  get  away  from  the  refin- 
ing spell  of  music,  and  notes  such  as  those  of  the  Wood 
Thrush — that  fill  the  common  air  like  sun-beams — will  search 
the  clefts  of  these  rugged  natures  as  do  those  same  suix-beams 
when  they  pierce  ice-mailed  cliffs  to  find  the  Alpine  Eose 
hidden  there,  and  glow  in  blushes  on  its  tender  cheek.  There 
is  a  soft  spot,  even  in  the  rough  hunter's  heart,  and  the  en- 
chantment of  that  song  will  reach  it  somewhere,  in  the  drear, 
deep  solitudes  of  pathless  wilderness,  all  unaware,  and  then 
the  warm  tears  welled  up  with  his  yearnings,  will  leave  him 
humanized  again — and  is  not  the  little  bird  a  comforter  to 
him? 

Aye,  and  it  has  been  the  angel  to  the  weary  and  way-far- 


MY   PET  WOOD   THEUSHES.  198 

ing  pilgrim  of  loftier  name  and  deeds  than  such  as  these. 
Hear  what  the  dedicated  high  priest  of  Nature's  temple — 
Audubon ! — has  told  us  of  his  little  comforter,  the  darling 
Wood  Thrush. 

"  You  now  see  before  you  my  greatest  favorite  of  the  feath- 
ered tribes  of  our  woods.  To  it  I  owe  much.  How  often 
has  it  revived  my  drooping  spirits,  when  I  have  listened  to 
its  wild  notes  in  our  forest,  after  passing  a  restless  night  in 
my  slender  shed,  so  feebly  secured  against  the  violence  of 
the  storm,  as  to  show  me  the  futility  of  my  best  efforts  to  re- 
kindle my  little  fire,  whose  uncertain  and  vacillating  light 
had  gradually  died  away  under  the  destructive  weight  of  the 
dense  torrents  of  rain  that  seemed  to  involve  the  heavens  and 
the  earth  in  one  mass  of  fearful  murkiness,  save  when  the  red 
streaks  of  the  flashing  thunderbolt  burst  on  the  dazzled  eye, 
and,  glancing  along  the  huge  trunk  of  the  stateliest  and  no- 
blest tree  in  my  immediate  neighborhood,  were  instantly  fol- 
lowed by  an  uproar  of  cracking,  crashing,  and  deafening 
sounds,  rolling  their  volumes  in  tumultuous  eddies  far  and 
near,  as  if  to  silence  the  very  breathings  of  the  unformed 
thought !  How  often,  after  such  a  night,  when  far  from  my 
dear  home,  and  deprived  of  the  presence  of  those  nearest  my 
heart,  wearied,  hungry,  drenched,  and  so  lonely  and  desolate 
as  almost  to  question  myself  why  I  was  thus  situated,  when 
I  have  seen  the  fruits  of  my  labors  on  the  eve  of  being  de- 
stroyed, as  the  water,  collected  into  a  stream,  rushed  through 
my  little  camp,  and  forced  me  to  stand  erect,  shivering  in  a 
cold  fit  like  that  of  a  severe  ague,  when  I  have  been  obliged 
to  wait,  with  the  patience  of  a  martyr,  for  the  return  of  day, 
trying  in  vain  to  destroy  the  tormenting  musquitoes,  si- 
lently counting  over  the  years  of  my  youth,  doubting,  per 
haps,  if  ever  again  I  should  return  to  my  home,  and  em- 
brace my  family! — how  often,  as  the  first  glimpse  of 
morning  gleamed  doubtfully  among  the  dusky  masses 
of  the  forest  trees,  has  there  come  upon  my  ear,  thrilling 
along  the  sensitive  cords  which  connect  that  organ  with 

13 


194  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIRDS. 

the  heart,  the  delightful  music  of  this  harbinger  of  day ! — 
and  how  fervently,  on  such  occasions,  have  I  blessed  the 
Being  who  formed  the  Wood  Thrush,  and  placed  it  in  those 
solitary  forests,  as  if  to  console  me  amidst  my  privations,  to 
cheer  my  depressed  mind,  and  to  make  me  feel,  as  I  did,  that 
never  ought  man  to  despair,  whatever  may  be  his  situation, 
as  he  can  never  be  certain  that  aid  and  deliverance  are  .not 
at  hand. 

"  The  Wood  Thrush  seldom  commits  a  mistake  after  such 
a  storm  as  I  have  attempted  to  describe,  for  no  sooner  are  its 
sweet  notes  heard  than  the  heavens  gradually  clear,  the 
bright,  refracted  light  rises  in  gladdening  rays  from  beneath 
the  distant  horizon,  the  effulgent  beams  increase  in  their 
intensity,  and  the  great  orb  of  day  at  length  bursts  on  the 
sight.  The  gray  vapor  that  floats  along  the  ground  is  quick- 
ly dissipated,  the  world  smiles  at  the  happy  change,  and  the 
woods  are  soon  heard  to  echo  the  joyous  thanks  of  their 
many  songsters.  At  that  moment  all  fears  vanish,  giving 
place  to  an  inspiring  hope.  The  hunter  prepares  to  leave 
his  camp.  He  listens  to  the  Wood  Thrush,  while  he  thinks 
of  the  course  which  he  ought  to  pursue,  and  as  the  bird  ap- 
proaches to  peep  at  him,  and  learn  somewhat  of  his  inten- 
tions, he  raises  his  mind  toward  the  Supreme  Disposer  of 
events.  Seldom,  indeed,  have.  I  heard  the  song  of  this 
Thrush,  without  feeling  all  that  tranquillity  of  mind  to  which 
the  secluded  situation  in  which  it  delights  is  so  favorable. 
The  thickest  and  darkest  woods  seem  to  please  it  best.  The 
borders  of  murmuring  streamlets,  overshadowed  by  the 
dense  foliage  of  the  lofty  trees  growing  on  the  gentle  declivi- 
ties, amidst  which  the  sunbeams  seldom  penetrate,  are  its 
favorite  resorts.  There  it  is,  kind  reader,  that  the  musical 
powers  of  this  hermit  of  the  woods  must  be  heard,  to  be  fully 
appreciated  and  enjoyed. 

"  The  song  of  the  Wood  Thrush,  although  composed  of 
but  few  notes,  is  so  powerful,  distinct,  clear  and  mellow,  that 
it  is  impossible  for  any  person  to  hear  without  being  struck 


MY  PET  WOOD   THRUSHES.  195 

by  the  effect  winch  it  produces  on  the  mind.  I  do  not  know 
to  what  instrumental  sounds  I  can  compare  these  notes,  lor 
I  really  know  of  none  so  melodious  and  harmonical.  They 
gradually  rise  in  strength,  and  then  fall  in  gentle  cadences, 
becoming  at  length  so  low  as  to  be  scarcely  audible  :  like  the 
emotions  of  the  lover,  who  at  one  moment  exults  in  the  hope 
of 'possessing  the  object  of  his  affections,  and  the  next  pauses 
in  suspense,  doubtful  of  the  results  of  all  his  efforts  to  please. 

"  Several  of  these  birds  seem  to  challenge  each  other  from 
different  portions  of  the  forest,  particularly  towards  evening, 
and  at  that  time  nearly  all  the  other  songsters  being  about  to 
retire  to  rest,  the  notes  of  the  Wood  Thrush  are  doubly  pleas- 
ing. One  would  think  that  each  individual  is  anxious  to  ex- 
cel his  distant  rival,  and  I  have  frequently  thought  that  on 
such  occasions  their  music  is  more  than  ordinarily  effective, 
as  it  then  exhibits  a  degree  of  skilful  modulation  quite  be- 
yond my  power  to  describe.  These  concerts  are  continued 
for  some  time  after  sunset,  and  take  place  in  the  month  of 
June,  when  the  females  are  setting." 

The  Wood  Thrush  is  seldom  visible  while  it  sings,  and  it 
is  partly  owing  to  this  modest  shrinking  from  the  common 
gaze  that  few  identify  the  bird  with  the  song,  and  then  it 
seems  so  entirely  the  voice  of  the  place — the  very  language 
of  Shadow  and  the  Wood — that  men  are  scarcely  conscious 
they  do  not  expect  it  to  be  a  living  thing,  or  look  to  find  a 
bird  more  than  they  would  think  to  search  the  clear  rivulet 
lapsing  by,  for  some  embodiment  of  murmurs.  As  with 
Shelley's  Sky-Lark,  so  is  our  Wood  Thrush, 

"  Like  a  poet  hidden 
In  the  light  of  thought, 
Singing  songs  unbidden, 
'Till  the  world  is  wrought 
To  sympathy  with  hopes  and  fears  it  heeded  not." 

Were  we  an  imaginative  race,  this  mellow  and  mysterious 
music  would  be  the  inspiration  of  many  a  charming  myth  ; 


196  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIEDS. 

but,  unfortunately,  whatever  of  Greek  taste  there  may  be 
among  us  is  so  emulously  expended  in  erecting  Doric  Pig- 
stys  and  Corinthian  Coal  sheds,  not  to  speak  of  building  tem- 
ples for  Banking  Houses  and  domes  to  light  our  stables ! 
that  we  have  no  time  or  wit  to  spare  for  more  graceful  fan- 
cies, so  the  apotheosis  of  this  syren  of  the  solitude  must  Jbe 
even  left  to  the  hearts  of  rough  way-farers,  whom  it  has 
cheered  when  stumbling  by  the  way ! 

But  I  commenced  to  tell  you  of  my  Pet  "Wood  Thrushes ! 
I  have  one  now  before  me  on  my  table.  The  wild  and  gentle 
little  fellow  ! — he  watches  my  pen  with  such  a  knowing  air. 
I  wonder  if  he  doesn't  understand  all  about  it  ?  His  curios- 
ity becomes,  now  and  then,  rather  troublesome,  for,  he  occa- 
sionally gets  upon  a  regular  "  lark,"  when  we  let  him  out 
of  the  cage,  and  then  such  a  hubbub  as  we  have  upon  my 
sanctum  table  !  He  seems  to  be  of  a  decidedly  literary  turn, 
and  attacks  my  papers  the  first  thing.  Here  they  go  scatter- 
ed over  the  room,  sheet  after  sheet  sent  flying  from  the  table  I 
He  seizes  one  at  a  time  from  the  chaotic  heap,  and,  running 
backward  with  vigorous  jerks  to  the  edge  of  the  table,  tosses 
it  off,  and  then,  with  body  stooping  over  the  edge  and  head 
turned  sagely  awry,  he  watches  it  sail  down  to  the  floor,  and 
returns  gleefully  to  the  attack  again.  Tired  of  this  some- 
what laborious  sport,  the  running  of  my  pen  on  the  paper 
attracts  his  attention,  and  standing  erect  with  most  sagacious 
port,  he  eyes  the  proceeding  for  a  moment  and  then  com- 
mences racing  to  and  fro  after  the  pen,  pecking  at  the  words 
as  they  are  left,  to  the  great  and  frequent  detriment  of  my 
orthography,  which  is  often  sadly  blurred  and  bedraggled  by 
his  reckless  toes. 

How  much  the  saucy  pest  has  learned  by  his  audacious  in- 
quisition, I  can  only  judge  by  the  fact  that  he  soon  tires  of 
his  pursuit  of  knowledge,  and  now  has  attacked  my  inkstand 
— the  temptation  of  those  long  white-feathered  quills  is  not 
to  be  withstood — they  too  would  look  well  sailing  down  to 
the  floor  after  those  sheets  of  paper — hey-day !  spatter,  spat- 


MY  PET   WOOD   THRUSHES.  197 

ter !  Can't  stand  that,  friend  Brownie — go  home,  yon  scamp ! 
my  ink  is  everywhere — and  with  an  elfish  chirp  he  darts 
away  to  find  new  mischief  on  the  work-table.  Now  for  the 
spools,  and  balls,  and  skeins — silks,  cottons,  tapes,  cords, 
scissors,  thimbles,  pins,  &c. — how  they  roll  and  bounce,  and 
fly  about  the  room  in  most  admired  disorder !  while  he  sur- 
veys it  all  with  such  a  grave  and  serene  look  as  would  ex- 
press to  you  the  heartfelt  conviction  on  his  part,  of  having 
just  performed  a  most  responsible  duty.  But  you  may  know 
that  at  this  rate  we  cannot  afford  to  Mr.  Brownie  the  fre- 
quent indulgence  of  such  a  spree ;  for  all  would  soon  be 
chaos  come  again  with  a  vengeance.  It  is  only  occasionally 
that  we  thus  surrender  to  the  Prince  of  Misrule,  and  he  is 
sure  to  make  the  most  of  it. 

I  have  some  rather  curious  facts  with  regard  to  this  face- 
tious friend  of  ours,  to  relate.  I  found  the  nest  in  a  lonely 
piece  of  shady  wood,  within  the  bosom  of  which  a  charming 
spring  was  sheltered.  These  birds  are  so  seldom  disturbed 
in  any  part  of  the  country,  that  they  seem  to  make  no  at- 
tempt at  concealment  in  placing  their  nests,  being  governed 
by  convenience  only.  Indeed,  this  nest  was  placed  on  the 
lower  limbs  of  a  small  beach-tree,  exactly  on  the  side  of  a  nar- 
row path  that  was  much  frequented  by  persons  walking  past 
at  all  hours  of  the  day.  It  was  so  low  that  I  could  nearly 
touch  it  with  my  fingers,  and  there  the  old  birds  brooded  as 
cosily  and  calmly — their  bright  eyes  within  a  yard  of  the 
face  of  every  passer  by,  as  if  they  sat  secure  in  Paradise, 
before  the  children  of  Adam  had  taken  to  bird-nesting.  I 
watched  the  brood  as  it  came  on,  and  one  fine  day  transferred 
the  nest  entire,  with  the  three  young  that  were  nearly  full 
fledged,  to  a  small  wire  cage  which  I  hung  in  the  same  place, 
that  the  old  birds  might  continue  to  feed  them.  It  happened 
that  only  one  of  them — that  I  thought  to  be  a  male,  and  the 
boldest  and  strongest  of  the  three,  perched  upon  the  roost, 
which  enabled  it  to  reach  the  food  brought  by  the  parents, 
through  the  bars  above.  The  other  two  remaining  on  the 


198  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIBDS. 

bottom  of  the  cage  could  not  reach  the  food,  and  to  my  great 
regret  I  found  them  dead  on  my  next  visit.  Our  present  ac- 
quaintance stood  erect  and  alert  upon  his  perch,  and  the 
warm  orange  tint  tinging  the  white  ground  of  his  speckled 
throat  and  breast,  assured  me  that  my  conjectures  as  to  its 
sex  had  been  correct.  The  old  birds  continued  to  feed  it 
with  great  industry  until  it  was  full  grown  in  size,  and  nearly 
so  in  plumage.  The  abundant  supply  of  food  which  had 
fallen  to  its  share,  instead  of  being  divided  between  two  other 
throats,  had  caused  it  to  thrive  astonishingly,  and  it  proved 
one  of  the  most  thrifty  cage  birds  I  have  had.  This  is  al- 
ways the  best  way  to  raise  birds  of  any  kind,  but  more  es- 
pecially, the  finer  varieties  of  song-birds,  which  are  usually 
very  delicate  and  difficult  to  bring  up  by  the  hand  with  good 
constitutions.  The  young  mocking  birds  of  which  I  have 
told  you  that  I  had  raised  by  the  blue  birds  for  me,  and  this 
thrush  made  the  finest  and  healthiest  birds  I  have  ever  seen 
in  cages.  There  is  another  great  advantage  in  pursuing  this 
plan,  which  has  been  fully  illustrated  in  both  these  experi- 
ments, besides  many  similar  ones  with  different  birds  ;  you 
can,  by  frequently  visiting  the  little  prisoners,  so  gradually 
accustom  them  to  your  presence  that  when  the  time  for  sep- 
aration from  the  mother  comes,  they  are  already  tamed,  and 
will  eat  immediately  from  your  hand.  There  is  no  danger 
of  the  faithful  parents  deserting  them  on  account  of  your 
visits,  for  I  have  known  instances  of  their  continuing  to  min- 
ister with  the  most  unflinching  patience,  to  their  young  thus 
confined,  for  a  whole  season. 

It  is  cruel  thus  to  impose  upon  their  beautiful  loyalty,  I 
admit,  but  then,  as  men  and  women  will  have  such  pets,  it 
is  best  that  they  should  know  how  to  obtain  them  with  least 
suffering  to  bird  and  owner. 

Brownie  had  now  been  installed  in  our  room  for  a  week 
or  two,  and  my  wife  and  myself  were  walking  through  the 
fields  one  day,  when  we  came  upon  a  very  dingy,  bedraggled 
and  deplorable  looking  specimen  of  the  American  Eobin,  or 


MY  PET  WOOD  THRUSHES.  199 

migratory  Thrush.  It  was  not  half  fledged,  and  had  no 
doubt  been  turned  out  of  its  nest  by  some  accident,  and  as 
it  happened  to  be  on  the  edge  of  a  piece  of  swamp,  where  it 
evidently  had  no  business,  it  instantly  called  to  mind  a  coup- 
let of  Scott's,  describing  the  Exodus  of  the  Fairies : 

And  the  Kelpie  must  flit  from  the  black-bog  pit 
And  the  Brownie  must  not  tarrie. 

"  Yo  ho  !  here  is  our  kelpie  1  so  now  he  shall  flit  from  the 
black-bog  pit,  and  be  playmate  for  our  Brownie."  So  I  cap- 
tured the  little  monster,  than  which  surely  no  goblin  shape 
was  ever  uglier.  I  had  called  our  bird  Brownie,  from  the 
color  of  its  back  in  the  first  place ;  but  now,  the  coincidence 
was  so  evident,  that  the  poor  captivated  Eobin  must  needs  be 
christened  Kelpie  !  He  was  taken  home  and  placed  under 
the  guardianship  of  Mr.  Brownie,  who,  for  the  first  day, 
seemed  to  be  afraid  of  the  hideous  little  creature,  and  al- 
though he  hopped  round  and  round  it  with  the  most  in- 
tensely curious  expression,  yet  its  harsh  and  incessant  cry 
with  the  wide  gaping  of  its  great  yellow  mouth,  seemed  to 
be  too  much  for  his  nerves.  On  the  morning  of  the  second 
day,  we  observed  Mr.  Brownie  employing  himself  in  a  very 
mysterious  sort  of  fashion,  for  instead  of  eating  the  worms 
that  were  placed  as  usual  at  his  disposal,  he  would  take  one, 
and  after  beating  it  with  his  bill  until  it  was  quite  dead,  he 
would  gather  it  up  with  the  greatest  care  until  it  made  the 
smallest  possible  bulk,  and  then  carefully  wetting  it  in  the 
water,  he  would  hop  about  the  squalling  Kelpie,  as  if  to  at- 
tract attention.  Failing  in  this,  he  would  perseveringly  at- 
tempt to  push  the  food  into  its  mouth ;  having,  it  would 
seem,  made  the  sage  discovery  that  stuffing  food  into  that 
wide  mouth  was  the  only  way  to  stop  it.  During  the  whole 
day  we  watched  the  benevolent  little  fellow,  endeavoring  by 
every  conceivable  art,  to  make  his  dingy  fellow-captive  un- 
derstand what  it  was  he  wanted  of  him ;  but  open  his  mouth 


200  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIRDS. 

at  the  right  time,  the  heathenish  Kelpie  obstinately  refused 
to  do.  Brownie,  in  the  meantime,  was  in  a  perfect  agony  of 
worry  that  his  good  intentions  should  be  so  misunderstood, 
and  when  even  the  creature  became  clamorous,  he  renewed 
his  efforts  in  a  seeming  entire  forgetfulness  of  himself.  On 
the  third  morning  he  seemed  to  have  begun  to  lose  all  pa- 
tience, and  to  be  determined  that  his  protege  should  accept 
his  kind  offices,  whether  or  no. 

I  observed  him  now  pushing  at  the  corners  of  its  mouth 
with  all  its  might,  to  force  it  open,  and  that  evening,  seeing 
Brownie  grievously  disturbed  and  troubled — fluttering  about 
the  Robin,  I  took  it  up  to  examine  what  had  happened.  I 
was  not  a  little  shocked  to  see  that  one  eye  was  entirely  de- 
stroyed !  Poor  Brownie,  in  his  zeal  to  force  its  mouth  open, 
had  wounded  the  eye-ball  fatally  with  his  sharp  bill !  In  all 
my  experience  of  human  actions  and  emotions,  I  never  wit- 
nessed anything  more  touchingly  expressive  of  distress  for 
an  accident  and  affectionate  solicitude  for  the  subject  of  it 
than  was  now  displayed  by  our  Brownie.  He  evidently  un- 
derstood perfectly  that  he  had  done  serious  mischief,  and  ap- 
peared to  feel  that  he  could  not  do  enough  to  make  amends. 
He  now  almost  killed  the  little  sufferer  with  kindness,  and 
stuffed  it  incessantly  with  food,  for  the  unfortunate  Kelpie 
seemed,  when  it  was  now  only  just  too  late,  to  understand 
what  had  been  all  the  time  required  of  him,  and  fed  with 
the  utmost  readiness.  This  was  certainly  a  singular  and 
touching  exhibition  of  a  parental,  or  else  chivalrous  feeling, 
on  the  part  of  this  bird,  which  was  only  a  few  weeks  older 
than  the  other.  The  Kelpie  died  not  long  afterwards,  and 
we  were  not  sorry  except  for  Brownie's  sake,  who  seemed  to 
feel  the  loss  very  seriously.  After  its  painful  mutilation,  we 
neither  expected  nor  desired  to  raise  it.  I  have  known  many 
instances  in  which  old  birds  that  had  bred  before  captivity, 
have  exhibited  this  sort  of  solicitude  for  young  birds  that 
might  be  placed  in  the  cage,  without  reference  to  the  species. 
Indeed,  I  knew  an  old  woman  in  Washington  City,  who  pos- 


MY  PET  WOOD  THKtTSHES.  201 

sessed  a  fine  male  Grosbeak,  (the  common  Eed  Bird,)  from 
whose  parental  sympathies,  she  managed  to  make  a  very 
pretty  income.  I  have  frequently  seen  him  with  three  or 
four  young  birds  of  different  though  analagous  species,  un- 
der his  charge  at  the  same  time.  He  raised  many  fine  birds 
for  her  during  the  year,  and  even  possessed  sufficient  sa- 
gacity to  adapt  the  food,  in  a  certain  degree,  to  the  different 
varieties.  I  have  known  her  to  refuse  offers  of  considerable 
sums  for  this  extraordinary  bird.  Instances  resembling  this 
are  frequent  in  Natural  History ;  but  Brownie's  is  the  only 
case  in  which  I  have  heard  of  a  young  bird  volunteering 
to  undertake  such  a  ministration. 

The  story  of  my  other  pet  is  a  short  but  sad  one.  I  was 
walking  through  the  summer  grove  in  which  Brownie  was 
born,  early  one  morning,  when  in  passing  near  a  tree,  in 
which  I  had  observed  a  Thrush's  nest,  I  saw  a  young  "Wood 
Thrush  that  had  no  doubt  been  just  helped  down  from  the 
nest  by  the  mother,  hopping  on  the  ground  at  the  foot  of 
the  tree.  I  saw  that  it  was  almost  fully  fledged,  and  walked 
towards  it  very  gently.  It  stopped  as  it  saw  me,  and  draw- 
ing up  one  foot  in  the  attitude  of  careless  repose,  turned  up 
its  dark,  bright  eyes,  and  looked  calmly  and  softly  into  my 
face.  I  was  astonished  that  it  made  no  attempt  to  escape, 
when  evidently  so  well  able  to  do  so,  and  paused  a  moment. 
The  little  creature  turned  back  its  bill  and  lightly  trimmed 
a  feather  of  its  wing ;  then  looking  up  at  me  again  with  the 
same  indescribably  confiding  softness,  remained  motionless, 
as  if  awaiting  me  to  act.  I  stooped  and  took  it  gently  in  my 
hand,  it  made  not  the  slightest  movement,  even  now  to  es- 
cape, but  in  a  moment  nestled  itself  sweetly  in  my  open 
hand,  and  still  looked  into  my  face  with  its  lovely  eyes,  as 
confidingly  as  any  seraph  might  have  done,  that  had  waked 
on  a  sudden,  on  a  smiling  earth,  and  thought  it  heaven.  I 
felt  the  warm  tears  gush  to  my  eyes,  for  I  had  never  before 
seen  that  fearless  innocence  of  childhood,  that  can  outstare 
the  lightning,  so  touchingly  and  beautifully  illustrated.  The 


202  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIEDS. 

little  creature  did  not,  absolutely,  seem  capable  of  imagining 
that  there  could  be  such  things  as  evil  or  danger  in  a  world 
where  the  sun  shone  bright,  and  the  leaves  were  all  so  rust- 
ling green.  It  had  not  yet  learned  the  terrible  lesson  of  hate 
and  death.  It  had  only  learned  of  love,  beneath  the  warm 
brooding  of  its  gentle  mother's  breast ;  and  now  the  tender 
innocent,  with  its  unvitiated  vision,  saw  the  upturned  face 
of  man,  with  that  true  recognition  that  first  graced  Adam  in 
the  Eden  of  his  birth  and  power,  as  sovereign,  lord  and  mild 
protector,  not  as  persecutor,  tyrant  and  the  brutal  robber. 

I  never  saw  an  incident  more  beautiful,  or  that  filled  me 
with  such  strange  and  glad  delight.  I  felt  as  if  a  messenger 
of  harmony  and  holy  peace  had  left  some  Halcyon's  nest  of 
love,  to  bring  me  calm  and  holy  teachings,  and  I  could  not 
bring  myself  to  let  it  go  away  from  me — cruel  as  it  seems 
thus  to  have  to  abuse  that  meek  seraphic  confidence. 

I  am  not  romancing  now.  I  am  telling  you  a  vivid  fact 
of  natural  truth — that  strange  little  bird — that  sweet  new 
comer  in  the  birth  of  love — fed  from  my  hand  as  regularly 
on  from  that  moment,  as  it  ever  did  from  its  mother's  bill — 
never  exhibited  any  fear  of  me,  and  never  made  any  attempt 
to  escape.  It  followed  me  everywhere  about  my  room,  and 
perched  constantly  upon  or  close  to  my  person. 

Alas !  this  too  great  affection  finally  proved  the  cause  of 
its  loss  to  me. 

I  left  my  room  hastily  one  day,  and  this  affectionate  crea- 
ture followed  close  at  my  heels,  without  my  observing  it ! 

It  was  lost !  My  gentle  little  Wood  Thrush,  I  never  yet 
loved  a  pet  so  dearly  ! 

A  short  time  after  the  loss  of  our  charming  pet  Brownie, 
a  dear  friend  presented  my  wife  with  an  English  Wood 
Thrush.  It  was  a  remarkably  fine  specimen — a  male  in  the 
first  year.  We  give  you  here  a  singularly  accurate  portrait 
of  this  bird,  in  the  plumage  of  the  second  year.  We  called 
him  "  Brownie  the  Second,"  and  I  have  some  curious  things 
to  relate  to  you  of  him,  too. 


MY  PET  WOOD  THRUSHES.  203 

I  had  a  theory  which  I  often  broached  to  my  wife  concern- 
ing this  branch  of  the  family  TurdinaB.  It  was,  that  the 
Wood  Thrush  constituted  the  feathered  incarnation  of  the 
Affectional  Sentiment  in  Mankind — that  in  its  mellow,  clear 
and  wonderfully  liquid  notes,  we  heard  the  natural  language 
of  tenderness,  pity,  charity  and  hope,  and  that  therefore,  the 
fact  of  Brownie's  feeding  the  poor  Kelpie  was  no  accident,  but 
that  the  same  sympathetic  benevolence  would  be  found  to 
characterize  the  specimens  quite  generally,  and  without  regard 
to  sex.  Now,  this  bird,  (Turdus  HusicusJ)  the  Song  Thrush  of 
Europe,  is  so  nearly  allied  to  (Turdus  Melodus)  the  American 
variety,  that  the  two  were  for  a  long  time  confounded  among 
the  Old  World  Naturalists  ;  and  indeed,  Wilson  was  the  first 
who  drew  the  clear  line  of  distinction  between  the  two,  and 
established  ours  as  a  distinct  species.  This  bird  was  pre- 
sented to  us  in  the  fall  of  the  year,  and  as  I  had  ventured 
to  predict,  that  with  the  return  of  spring  our  new  English 
friend  would  exhibit  the  same  traits  as  his  late  American 
kinsman — poor  Brownie — in  feeding  the  first  young  bird  of 
the  family  Turdinse  presented  to  it,  I  was  all  eagerness  to 
have  the  spring  come,  that  we  might  test  the  question 
fully. 

It  happened  that  a  nearly  fatal  illness  overtook  me  this 
winter,  and  I  was  compelled  to  seek  for  restoration  in  the 
South. 

We  arrived  at  Charleston  very  early  in  the  spring,  and  by 
the  time  the  mocking  birds  began  to  breed,  I  was  able  to 
travel  far  enough  by  railroad  to  reach  Columbia,  the  lovely 
capital  of  the  State,  where,  under  the  care  of  that  distin- 
guished naturalist,  physician  and  gentleman,  Professor  Rob- 
ert AY.  Gibbs,  I  was  soon  so  far  relieved  as  to  be  strong 
enough  to  get  out  on  short  excursions  occasionally.  My  wife 
was  then  engaged  in  making  the  drawings  of  birds  which, 
are  presented  in  this  volume. 

We  had,  in  addition  to  our  pet  Englishman,  alluded  to,  a 
fine  male  Southern  mocking  bird,  which  was  not  quite  old 


204  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIEDS. 

enough — though  it  sang  very  well — to  furnish  her  with  the 
necessary  definition  of  plumage  for  a  correct  drawing. 

Her  ambition  was  to  achieve,  as  nearly  as  possible,  the  but- 
terfly airiness  with  which  this  marvellous  bird  floats  upward 
and  around  upon  the  eddying  ecstasies  of  its  mighty  song. 

It  was,  perhaps,  a  presumptuous  attempt,  but  presumption 
has  ever  been  one  synonym  of  daring. 

She  made  an  hundred  studies  from  the  action  of  the  caged 
bird,  all  to  the  same  end,  but  none  of  them  were  entirely 
satisfactory.  At  last,  the  conviction  came  that  we  must 
have  a  specimen  bird — not  a  "  stuffed  specimen,"  but  one 
warm,  and  yet  throbbing  with  the  last  pulses  of  life — that 
could  be  placed  naturally  in  the  position  studied  from  the 
living  bird,  and  sketched  rapidly  before  it  grew  cold  in  the 
rigidity  of  absolute  death. 

When  my  wife  announced  to  me  that  she  must  have  such 
a  specimen — that  although  she  had  studied  the  wild  bird  on 
the  wing  at  a  distance,  and  the  tame  bird  near  at  hand,  and 
had  many  good  ideas  of  this  movement  in  her  sketches — yet 
there  were  numerous  details  of  outline  and  finish  which  it 
was  impossible  to  achieve  without  the  warm  specimen — I 
well  recollect  my  despairing  answer — 

"  The  fact  is,  I  would  rather  face  a  panther  on  the  bound, 
than  shoot  a  mocking  bird.  I  hope  God  will  forgive  me,  but 
as  I  see  clearly  it  must  be  done,  it  shall  be  done  !" 

This  was  said  with  a  tragic  earnest  that  must  have  been 
comical ;  for  my  wife  said,  with  a  quiet  smile :  "  "Well,  now, 
hero  as  you  think  you  are,  I  do  not  believe  you  can  do  it !" 
This  conveyed  an  implication  upon  my  marksmanship,  of 
which  I  am,  by  the  way,  excessively  proud,  and  also  upon 
the  firmness  of  my  nerves,  which  could  by  no  means  be  en- 
dured ;  so,  with  a  sovereign  wave  of  the  hand  and  an  extra 
straitening  of  my  person,  I  left  the  room  saying :  "  You  shall 
see,  madam,  that  my  will  can  accomplish  anything  that  is  ne- 
cessary !" 

Fifteen  minutes  afterwards  we  were  embarked  in  a  light 


MY  PET  WOOD  THRUSHES.  205 

buggy,  attended  by  a  bright  mulatto  boy,  bound  for  the  out- 
skirts of  the  city — I  with  gun  in  hand,  and  my  wife  with  a 
most  provoking  look  of  archness  upon  her  child-like  face.  I 
was  going  forth  slaying  and  to  slay,  and  vowed  that  I  had 
as  soon  kill  a  Bird  of  Paradise  as  a  mouse,  when  the  interests 
of  science  required  it,  and  persisted — like  the  boy  whistling 
in  the  dark — in  convincing  her  that  I  should  certainly  shoot 
for  her  the  finest  specimen  of  a  mocking  bird  that  we  could 
find.  Indeed,  for  the  purpose  of  re-assuring  her  smiling  in- 
credulity, I  went  on  to  remind  her  that  she  had  seen  me  per- 
form miracles  with  the  rifle — she  had  known  me  even  to 
place  six  bullets  in  successive  shots  upon  the  space  of  my 
thumb  nail — which  I  thrust  forward  to  show  her  was  not  a 
very  large  one !  "  Oh  yes !" — she  knew  I  was  "  a  good  rifle 
shot — a  wonderful  rifle  shot,  if  I  insisted  upon  it — but  shoot- 
ing at  buffalo,  deer,  or  even  Camanches,  was  not,  strictly 
speaking,  shooting  at  mocking  birds !" 

"  Nonsense  !  If  a  man  knows  how  to  hit  one  thing,  he 
knows  how  to  hit  another  1" 

I  felt  somehow  funny,  I  must  confess,  at  this  persistent  du- 
biousness. It  could  not  be  that  she  thought  that  because  I 
had  become  accustomed  to  shooting  at  large  objects,  that 
therefore  I  should  miss  the  small  ones  as  a  matter  of  course. 
What  could  the  woman  be  driving  at  ? — why,  I  could  shoot 
a  bird  on  the  wing  a  great  deal  easier  with  the  shot-gun,  than 
a  deer  on  the  run  with  the  rifle,  which  requires  you,  in  order 
to  bring  him  down,  to  place  a  single  ball  in  a  much  smaller 
space  than  even  the  snipe  would  cover  with  its  wing  on  its 
flight.  She  cannot  mean  that  I  am  not  a  good  marksman, 
for  that  she  knows  I  am  ! 

Hah !  there  is  a  mocking  bird,  well  known  in  all  this  re- 
gion as  a  magnificent  singer.  See  him  bounding  up  from 
the  top  of  that  pear  tree  inside  the  garden.  The  people  will 
all  curse  me,  I  know,  for  slaying  the  angel  of  song  in  their 
neighborhood ;  but  then  I  hope  to  make  peace  with  them  in 


206  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIKDS. 

explaining  to  them  that  it  was  a  necessity  of  science  and  its 
accompanying  art. 

The  buggy  was  stopped,  and  out  I  sprang.  He  was  but  a 
short  distance  off,  swimming  and  bounding  on  "  the  billows 
of  sweet  sound."  My  wife  said,  as  I  left  her : 

"  Be  sure  you  get  him,  he  is  a  splendid  creature,  just  the 
specimen  that  I  want." 

"  Yes,  you  shall  see  I"  said  I,  faintly.  I  walked  up  towards 
him.  He  did  not  observe  me,  he  was  too  much  absorbed  in  his 
hymn.  I  was  now  within  twenty  paces  of  the  low  pear  tree, 
yet  he  soared  and  floated  unobservant  of  the  stalking  murder 
in  his  front ;  he  knew  no  evil  in  this  hospitable  land,  and 
music  had  been  "  plate  of  mail "  to  him.  I  pointed  my  gun 
at  him  three  times,  but  always  I  would  never  see  the  end  of 
the  barrel,  for  my  eyes  grew  thick  with  tears.  I  could  not 
see  him,  he  was — "  hidden  in  the  light  "—of  music. 

I  tried,  in  the  desperation  of  my  will,  to  pull  the  trigger 
in  that  direction,  but  the  gun  would  not  go  off.  I  could  not 
make  it  go,  and  found  that  somehow,  it  was  only  on  half- 
cock.  Even  then,  after  it  was  on  full-cock,  and  the  beauti- 
ful creature  undauntedly  floated  and  sang,  I  found  another  pre- 
text for  dodging  my  boasted  inexorableness.  I  saw  the  fe- 
male fly  into  the  same  tree,  though  lower  down,  and  came 
to  the  instantaneous  conclusion  that  as  they  must  be  building 
there,  it  would  be  an  unpardonable  profanity  for  me  to  shoot 
the  male  under  such  circumstances.  I  went  back  to  the 
buggy,  and  although  my  wife  attempted  hysterically,  to  keep 
up  her  bantering  tone,  and  vowed  that  if  I  did  not  shoot  her 
a  mocking  bird,  she  would  do  it  herself,  because  "  she  must 
have  it  I"  yet  I  felt  that  her  voice  trembled  in  this  assertion 
of  the  inevitable  requisitions  of  art,  and  not  another  word 
was  spoken  between  us  as  we  drove  back  to  our  hotel. 

A  week  had  passed,  and  still  her  studies  made  it  more  ap- 
parent that  we  must  have  a  fresh  slain  specimen,  to  enable 
her  to  complete  the  drawing  contemplated. 

At  last,  upon  one  of  my  well  days,  we  were  transported  to 


MY  PET  WOOD  THEUSHES.  207 

the  edge  of  an  extensive  woodland,  intersected  here  and 
there  by  large  old  fields  or  commons  which  had  been  deserted 
for  years.  These  were  the  most  likely  places  to  find  the 
highest  specimens  of  the  Southern  mocking  bird.  After 
leaving  the  buggy,  we  traversed  on  foot  some  quarter  of  a 
mile  of  foot-path,  over  an  undulating  upland,  we  suddenly 
found  ourselves  introduced  to  a  small  meadow,  on  the  bank 
of  a  feeble  rivulet. 

This  had  many  years  ago  been  a  farm,  but  had  for  some 
cause  been  deserted.  I  saw  at  once,  it  was  the  place  for 
mocking  birds,  and  we  accordingly  sat  down  beneath  the 
shade  of  a  heavy  pine  to  watch  the  aspects  of  the  scene. 

In  a  little  while,  we  saw  in  the  meadow  below  us  two  mock- 
ing birds  flitting  to  and  fro,  as  if  this  was  their  familiar  home. 
The  male  was  a  splendid  specimen,  and  although  I  shot  at 
it  with,  as  I  supposed,  my  nerves  worked  up  to  the  last  de- 
gree of  tension,  I  never  hit  it,  although  within  astonishingly 
short  distances.  At  last,  as  my  wife  had  brought  out  paper 
and  pencils  for  drawing,  and  wires  for  fixing  the  bird  in  po- 
sition, I  was  compelled  to  shoot  one  of  the  pair  in  spite  of 
myself.  It  was  fixed  upon  the  wires  immediately,  and  she 
commenced  making  the  drawing  beneath  the  shade  of  a  pine. 

I  left  her,  saying — "  I  am  convinced  that  these  birds  have 
a  nest  in  this  meadow ;  you  continue  your  drawing,  while  I 
go  to  look  for  it." 

I  wandered  around  the  meadow,  looking  into  every  isolat- 
ed clump  or  thicket  without  distinction.  Every  secret  place 
had  been  searched,  and  as  the  mate  came  along,  I,  in  a  sple- 
netic mood,  brought  it  down  also.  But  then  the  idea  haunted 
me — they  have  a  nest  of  young  in  this  meadow,  and  now 
that  I  have  done  murder  upon  their  natural  protectors,  my 
business  is  to  protect  the  callow  children  of  song. 

There  was  a  small  clump  of  blackberry  vines  mingled 
with  more  vigorous  shrubs,  and  more  luxuriant  foliage,  which 
occupied  the  central  pla.ce  of  this  old  field,  and  into  which  I 
had  glanced  an  hundred  times  in  passing.  The  foliage  was 


208  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIKDS. 

impervious  to  sight,  but  at  last  it  occurred  to  me  to  thrust 
my  cane  into  the  difficult  bosom  of  the  brake,  and  turning 
aside  the  thorns  gently,  I  saw,  sure  enough,  as  I  had  sus- 
pected, four  yellow  mouths  gaping  out  of  shadow,  to  the  stir 
which  reached  only  the  darkened  sense  of  their  sealed  vision. 
Carefully  through  the  environed  thorns  I  lifted  the  dim  fam- 
ily, and  bore  it  to  my  wife. 

"  What  can  we  do  with  them  ?"  said  she,  despondingly. 

"  Never  mind ;  we  have  the  English  wood  thrush,  Brow- 
nie the  Second,  and  rest  assured  he  will  take  care  of  these 
callow  younglings." 

"Well,  we  got  the  little  things  home,  and  "  Brownie  the 
Second  "  behaved  very  much  as  Brownie  the  First  had  be- 
haved. 

He  exhibited  the  same  tender  solicitude  as  Brownie  the 
First.  After  we  placed  the  nest  in  his  cage,  he  continued 
for  an  hour  or  so  to  jump  around,  with  a  wonderful  expression 
of  wonder  and  uncertainty,  until  the  little  creatures  began 
to  gap  their  mouths  with  hunger,  and  utter  a  feeble  cry  for 
help;  then  came  our  valorous  Song  Thrush,  and  with  just  the 
same  movements  which  I  have  described  in  the  conduct  of 
"Brownie  the  First"  towards  the  dismal  kelpie,  he  estab- 
lished an  immediate  sympathy  with  the  forlorn  little  ones. 

He  fed  the  young  mockers  at  once,  and  sedulously  culti- 
vated them  into  respectability,  and  it  was  very  amusing  to 
notice,  as  the  young  birds  grew  up,  how  insolently  they  at- 
tempted, (as  in  the  case  of  the  blue  birds  mentioned  in  my 
second  chapter,)  to  assert  their  supremacy.  They  could 
make  nothing  out  of  the  "  Song  Thrush." 

What  he  did  was  a  sentiment.  Let  your  insolent  autocrat 
of  song  say  what  he  might,  in  splendid  diction,  but  he  never 
yet  dared  to  emulate  my  song !  I  am  the  voice  of  love — his 
of  ambition !  so  let  us  stand ;  and  thus  they  stood,  so  far  as 
their  future  relations  were  concerned. 

When  the  young  mocking  birds  which  he  had  cultivated, 
became  obstreperous,  and  presumed  to  peck — with  their  usual 


MY   PET   WOOD   THKUSHES.  209 

selfish  and  ungrateful  propensity — at  the  very  head,  and 
eyes,  and  heart  that  had  nourished  them,  he  would  keep 
quiet  until  patience  was  utterly  exhausted,  and  then  turn 
about  and  give  them  a  tremendous  drubbing.  I  have  seen 
the  Song  Thrush  in  many  associations,  but  I  never  saw  it  fail  to 
thrash  the  mocking  bird,  and  every  other  bird  of  its  family, 
when  they  had  carried  their  aggressions  up  to  a  certain  point. 
This  bird  will  not  fight  if  it  can  help  it,  but  when  it  does,  it 
fights  like  a  desperado,  and  always  wins.  Both  the  Amer- 
ican and  English  varieties  are  equally  quiet  in  this  respect, 
and  never  commit  aggressions  upon  their  neighbors,  but  re- 
sent them  with  the  same  fierceness. 

There  is  a  curious  book  called  "  The  Natural  History  of 
Cage  Birds,  by  J.  M.  Bechstein,  M.  D.,  &c.,  of  Waltershau- 
sen,  in  Saxony,"  which  furnishes  many  interesting  particulars 
in  regard  to  the  habits  of  the  Song  Thrush.  We  shall  pro- 
ceed to  give  them  as  being  somewhat  rare  to  American  and 
general  readers.  He  says:  "we  might  with  Brisson" — he 
speaks  of  the  Song  Thrush — "name  this  bird  the  small  missel 
thrush,  so  much  does  it  resemble  the  preceding  in  form,  plum- 
age, abode,  manners  and  gait.  Its  length  is  only  eight 
inches  and  a  half,  three  and  a  half  of  which  belong  to  the 
tail ;  the  beak  is  three-quarters  of  an  inch,  horn  brown,  the 
under  part  yellowish  at  the  base  and  yellow  within ;  the  iris  is 
nut  brown,  and  shanks  are  an  inch  high  and  of  a  ding}r  lead 
color.  All  of  the  upper  part  of  the  body  is  olive  brown. 
The  throat  is  yellowish  white,  with  a  black  line  on  each  side, 
the  sides  of  the  neck  and  breast  are  of  a  pale  reddish  white,  va- 
riegated with  dark  brown  spots  shaped  like  a  heart  reversed ; 
the  belly  is  white,  and  covered  with  more  oval  spots." 

Here  we  have  the  usual  inaccuracy  of  old  authors,  but  let 
us  hear  them : 

"  When  wild,  this  species  is  spread  all  over  Europe,  fre- 
quenting woods  near  streams,  and  meadows.  As  soon  as  the 
autumnal  fogs  appear,  they  collect  in  large  flights  to  seek  a 

14 


210  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIRDS. 

warmer  climate.*  The  principal  time  of  passage  is  from  the 
15th  of  September  to  the  15th  of  October,  and  of  return, 
about  the  middle  or  end  of  March  ;  each  pair  then  returns  to 
its  own  district,  and  the  male  warbles  his  hymn  to  spring 
from  the  same  tree  where  he  had  sung  the  preceding  year. 

"  In  confinement,  this  bird  is  lodged  like  the  Missel  Thrush, 
and  is  much  more  worthy  of  being  kept,  as  its  voice  is  more 
beautiful,  its  song  more  varied,  and  it  being  smaller  it  makes 
less  dirt. 

"  This  species  generally  build  on  the  lower  branches  of  trees, 
the  nest  being  pretty  large  and  formed  of  moss  mixed  with 
earth  or  cow-dung.  The  hen  lays  twice  a  year,  from  three 
to  six  green  eggs,  speckled  with  large  and  small  dark  brown 
spots.  The  first  brood  is  ready  to  fly  by  the  end  of  April. 
The  upper  part  of  the  body  in  the  young  ones  is  speckled 
with  white.  By  taking  them  from  the  nest  when  half-grown, 
they  may  be  easily  reared  on  white  bread  soaked  in  boiled 
milk,  and  they  are  easily  taught  to  perform  airs.  As  this 
thrush  builds  by  preference  in  the  neighborhood  of  water, 
the  nest  may  be  easily  found  by  seeking  it  in  the  woods  be- 
side a  stream,  and  near  it  the  male  will  be  heard  singing. 

"Of  all  the  birds  for  which  snares  are  laid,  those  for  the 
thrush  are  most  successful.  A  perch  with  a  limed  twig  is 
the  best  method  for  catching  a  fine-toned  male.  In  Septem- 
ber and  October,  these  birds  may  be  caught  in  the  water 
traps,  where  they  repair  at  sunrise  and  sunset,  and  sometimes 
so  late  that  they  cannot  be  seen,  and  the  ear  is  the  only  guide. 
When  they  enter  the  water,  haste  must  be  avoided,  because 
they  like  to  bathe  in  company,  and  assemble  sometimes  to 
the  number  of  ten  or  twelve  at  once,  by  means  of  a  particu- 
lar call.  The  first  which  finds  a  convenient  stream,  and 
wishes  to  go  to  it,  cries  in  a  tone  of  surprise  or  joy — '  sik, 
sik,  sik,  siki,  tsac,  tsac,  tsac"1 — immediately  all  the  neighbor- 
hood reply  together,  and  repair  to  the  place.  They  enter  the 
bath,  however,  with  much  circumspection,  and  seldom  ven- 

*  In  Britain  they  remain  all  the  year. 


MY  PET  WOOD  THRUSHES.  211 

tnre  till  they  have  seen  a  red-breast  bathe  without  danger ; 
but  the  first  which  ventures  is  soon  followed  by  the  others, 
which  begin  to  quarrel  if  the  place  is  not  large  enough  for 
all  the  bathers.  In  order  to  attract  them,  it  is  a  good  plan 
to  have  a  tame  bird  running  and  fluttering  on  the  banks  of 
a  stream." 

So  it  is  with  the  gentle  and  affectionate  natures  of  human- 
ity ;  they  are  easily  caught  by  the  "  limed  twigs "  of  pre- 
tence. But  here  is  what  the  German  says  of  the  European 
bird: 

"  The  Song  Thrush  is  the  great  charm  of  our  woods,  which 
it  enlivens  by  the  beauty  of  its  song.  The  rival  of  the  Night- 
ingale— it  announces  in  varied  accents  the  return  of  spring, 
and  continues  its  delightful  notes  during  all  the  summer 
months,  particularly  at  morning  and  evening  twilight." 

The  habits  of  the  English  or  European  Song  Thrush  agree 
so  perfectly  with  those  of  the  American  bird,  that  we  are 
almost  tempted  to  pronounce  them  identical,  except  that  we 
have  heard  their  songs.  One  is  brilliant,  keen  and  cold  as 
hawthorn  hedge  rows  and  a  systematized  civilization  could 
require ;  the  other,  wild,  bold,  liquid  and  free  as  the  very 
breath  of  harmonious  liberty  could  demand. 

At  all  events,  the  English  bird  is  true  to  sentiment,  and  that 
is  all  we  demand.  We  cannot  help,  however,  before  leaving 
the  subject  of  English  and  European  song-birds,  recurring 
to  what  this  same  European  has  said  in  regard  to  the  famous 
Nightingale.  Bechstein  says : 

"  The  male  is  particularly  endowed  with  so  very  striking 
a  musical  talent,  that  in  this  respect  he  surpasses  all  birds, 
and  has  acquired  the  name  of  the  king  of  songsters.  The 
strength  of  his  vocal  organ  is  indeed  wonderful,  and  it  has 
been  found  that  the  muscles  of  his  lungs  are  much  more 
powerful  than  those  of  any  other  bird.  But  it  is  less  the 
strength,  than  the  compass,  flexibility,  prodigious  variety  and 
harmony  of  his  voice,  which  makes  it  so  admired  by  all 
lovers  of  the  beautiful.  Sometimes  dwelling  for  minutes  on 


WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIRDS. 

a  strain  composed  of  only  two  or  three  melancholy  tones,  he 
begins  in  an  under  tone,  and  swelling  it  gradually  by  the 
most  superb  crescendo,  to  the  highest  point  of  strength,  he 
ends  it  by  a  dying  cadence ;  or  it  consists  of  a  rapid  success- 
ion of  more  brilliant  sounds,  terminated,  like  many  other 
strains  of  his  song,  by  some  detached  note.  Twenty-four 
different  strains  or  couplets  may  be  reckoned  in  the  song  of 
a  fine  Nightingale,  without  including  its  delicate  little  varia- 
tions, for  among  these,  as  among  other  musicians,  there  are 
some  great  performers  and  many  middling  ones.  This  song 
is  so  articulate,  so  speaking,  that  it  may  be  very  well  written. 
The  following  is  a  trial  which  I  have  made  on  that  of  a  Night- 
ingale in  my  neighborhood,  which  passes  for  a  very  capital 
singer : 

"  Tiofl,  tiou,  tiou,  tiou. 
Spe,  tiou,  squa. 

Tio,  ti6,  tio,  ti6,  ti6,  ti6,  ti6,  ti6. 
Coutio,  coutio,  coutio,  coutio. 
Squo,  squo,  squo,  squ6. 
Tzu,  tzu,  tzu,  tzu,  tzu,  tzu,  tzu,  tzu,  tzu,  tzi. 
Corro,  tiou,  squa,  pipiqui. 
Zozozozozozozozozozozozo,  zirrhading ! 
Tsissisi,  tsissisisisisisisisis. 
Dzorre,  dzorre,  dzorre,  dzorre,  hi. 
Tzatu,  tzatu,  tzatu,  tzatu,  tzatu,  tzatu,  tzatu,  dzi. 
Dlo,  dlo,  dlo,  dlo,  dlo,  dlo,  dlo,  dlo,  dlo. 
Quio,  tr  rrrrrrrr  itz. 

Lu,  lu,  lu,  lu,  ly,  ly,  ly,  ly,  lie,  lie,  HA,  lid  * 
Quio,  didl  li  lulylie. 
Hagurr,  gurr  guipio. 

Coui,  coui,  coui,  coui,  qui,  qui,  qui,  qui,  gui,  gui,  gui,  gui.f 
Goll,  goll,  goll,  goll,  quia  hadadoi. 
Couiqui,  horr,  ha  diadia  dill  si ! 

*  I  possess  a  nightingale  \vhich  repeats  these  brawling,  melancholy 
notes,  often  thirty  or  even  fifty  times.  Many  pronounce  qu,  quy,  qui, 
and  others,  qu  quy  gui. 

t  These  syllables  are  pronounced  in  a  sharper,  clearer  manner  than  the 
preceding  lu,  lu,  &c. — AUTHOE. 


MY  PET  WOOD  THKUSHES.  213 

Hezezezezezezezezezezezezezezezeze  couar  ho  dze  hoi. 
Quia,  quia,  quia,  quia,  quia,  quia,  quia,  quia,  ti. 
Ki,  ki,  ki,  'io,  i'o,  10,  ioioioio  ki. 
Lu  ly  li  le  lai  la  leu  lo,  didl  i'o  quia. 
Kigaigaigaigaigaigaigai  guiagaigaigai  couior  dzio  dzio  pi.* 

"  If  we  could  understand  the  sense  of  their  words,  we  should 
doubtless  discover  the  expression  of  the  sensations  of  this 
delightful  songster.  It  is  true  that  the  nightingale  of  all 
countries,  the  South  as  well  as  the  North,  appears  to  sing 
in  this  same  manner;  there  is,  however,  as  has  been  al- 
ready observed,  so  great  a  difference  in  the  degree  of  perfec- 
tion, that  we  cannot  help  acknowledging  the  one  has  great 
superiority  over  another." 

Now  if  any  one  will  take  the  trouble  to  whistle  or  hum 
over  this  song,  they  will  find  it  to  resemble,  in  all  respects 
except  intensity,  the  natural  song  of  our  mocking  bird.  The 
splendor  and  power  of  the  new  monarch  cannot  be  expressed 
in  syllables,  its  infinite  variety  is  beyond  the  command  of  the 
gamut. 

*  However  difficult  or  even  impossible  it  may  be  to  express  this  song 
upon  an  instrument,  (excepting,  however,  the  jay  call,  made  of  tin,  on 
which  is  placed  a  piece  of  birch  cut  in  a  cross,  and  which  is  held  be- 
tween the  tongue  and  palate,)  yet  it  is  very  true  that  the  accompaniment, 
of  a  good  piano  produces  the  most  agreeable  effect. — ATJTHOK. 


CHAPTER   X. 

BOEDER    LIFE     IN     THE     "WEST. 

AN  ADVENTURE   NEAR  THE  MOUTH   OF  THE  OHIO   RIVER. 

THE  neighborhood  of  that  amphibious  city  known  as  Cairo, 
has  never  been  remarkable  for  either  the  hospitable  or  anj 
other  virtues  of  its  inhabitants,  especially  those  on  the  Indi- 
ana side. 

I  had  a  most  satisfactory  opportunity  of  testing  this  on  an 
occasion  which  I  shall  relate. 

Some  twelve  or  thirteen  years  since,  while  on  my  return 
to  my  native  town  in  Kentucky,  after  a  long  sojourn  amidst 
the  wilds  of  the  Texas  border,  I  accidentally  fell  in,  at  Lex- 
ington, with  the  father  of  an  old  and  intimate  friend  of  my 
own,  who  had,  too,  been  an  adventurer  through  the  same 
regions  and  scenes  which  I  had  just  left,  but  had  now  settled 
down,  for  the  time  at  least,  in  charge  of  a  new  plantation  he 
was  opening  on  the  Kentucky  side  of  the  Ohio,  some  fifteen 
miles  above  Cairo. 

The  father,  Mr.  H ,  was  now  on  his  way  to  pay  a  visit 

to  his  son,  and  invited  me — as  it  would  be  but  a  slight  de- 
viation from  a  direct  course  home — to  accompany  him,  and 
pay  a  passing  visit  to  his  son  Dick,  who  would  be  anxious  to 
hear  all  the  news  I  could  give  him  concerning  the  late  field 
of  his  adventures.  We  took  water  at  Louisville,  expecting, 
as  the  new  plantation  was  only  a  mile  from  the  banks  of  the 
Ohio,  that  we  would  be  put  ashore  by  the  steamboat  on  the 
Kentucky  side,  and  have  no  difficulty  in  reaching  the  house. 


BOEDER  LIFE   IN  THE   WEST.  215 

But  the  river  was  falling  fast  when  we  left  Louisville,  and 
we  found  great  difficulty  on  that  account,  in  the  way  of  our 
navigation ;  and  indeed,  when  we  reached  the  point  of  land- 
ing, just  at  the  head  of  the  rapids,  which  was  not  until  eleven 
o'clock  of  a  dark  night,  we  found  to  our  great  dismay,  that 
the  captain  could  not  be  induced  to  land  on  the  Kentucky 
side  by  any  entreaties.  He  said  that  at  such  a  stage  of  the 
water,  landing  on  that  side  was  entirely  unsafe,  and  that  he 
would  not  risk  the  safety  of  his  boat  and  other  passengers 
for  the  accommodation  of  one  or  two — but  as  he  offered  to 
land  us  on  the  Indiana  side,  where  there  was  a  small  wood- 
yard  and  cabin,  in  which  we  could  take  shelter  until  morn- 
ing, we  were  bound  to  feel  satisfied. 

However  great  this  obligation  was,  my  elderly  companion 
did  not  seem  by  any  means  to  appreciate  it  with  sufficient 
gratitude.  When  he  found  that  the  captain  was  brutally  de- 
termined upon  his  course,  he  said  nothing  more,  but  seemed 
reconciled  to  put  the  best  possible  face  upon  the  matter.  I 
could  see,  though,  from  his  manner,  that  there  was  something 
behind  the  studied  coolness  with  which  he  accepted  the 
alternative ;  what  it  meant  I  could  not  comprehend,  for  I 
had  been  too  long  absent  from  the  country  to  be  at  all  aware 
of  the  then  infamous  reputation  of  that  portion  of  the  Indiana 
border.  The  boat  stopped  in  the  middle  of  the  stream,  and 
the  yawl  was  manned  to  put  us,  with  our  baggage,  on  shore, 
when,  as  we  were  entering,  we  found  ourselves  about  to  be 
joined  by  a  third  party,  whose  "  traps  "  had  been  handed 
forward,  and  had  been  passed  down.  First  came  four  square 
boxes  of  cherry-wood,  highly  varnished,  and  ostentatiously 
mounted  with  silver — German  silver,  I  suppose — and  which 
proved  very  weighty ;  so  much  so,  that  the  "  hands  "  in- 
dulged in  many  mysterious  jokes  about  them,  enjoining  each 
other  to  be  careful  not  to  let  them  fall,  for  if  they  "  bust " 
open  and  "  spilt  anything,"  it  might  be  too  much  "  for  a  man 
to  stand,"  &c.  Then  came  several  large  and  heavy  black 
trunks. 


216  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIRDS. 

"In  Heaven's  name,  man!"  said  Mr.  H ,  turning  up 

his  eyes  with  a  look  in  which  the  serio-comic  horror  seemed 
struggling  with  pity;  "do  you  know  where  you  are  taking 
all  this  baggage  ?" 

The  new  passenger,  as  revealed  to  us  for  a  moment  in  the 
torch-light,  seemed  a  sturdy,  thick-set,  rosy  cheeked,  but 
rather  greenish-looking  Yankee.  He  sprang  down  into  the 
boat,  and  took  his  place  by  our  side,  saying,  with  the  great- 
est nonchalance,  "  Ya-es,  I  guess  I  do  1" 

"  Well,"  growled  my  friend — for  the  boat  was  now  in  mo- 
tion— "I  should  rather  guess  you  dorft — we'll  see  !" 

The  self-confident  Yankee  took  no  notice  of  this  speech, 
but  settled  himself  as  coolly  as  possible  for  his  own  comfort, 
and  with,  of  course,  no  regard  to  ours,  upon  the  seat  he  had 
thus  unceremoniously  occupied,  and  stretching  out  his  legs, 
seemed  preparing  for  a  snooze,  while  our  boat  shot  out  through 
the  almost  impenetrable  darkness  towards  the  distant  shore. 
A  light,  which  was  now  swinging  to  and  fro  at  the  wood- 
yard,  was  our  only  guide  and  beacon,  for  the  shore  was  en- 
tirely invisible.  It  had  been  raining  through  the  day,  and 
the  night,  which  was  now  darkly  clouded,  promised  to  be 
still  boisterous  and  stormy. 

When  we  reached  the  shore,  a  rough-looking  fellow  met 
us  with  his  pine-knot  torch,  and  proved  very  obsequious  in 
helping  us  land.  When  the  hands  had  put  our  baggage 
ashore  and  the  boat  had  pushed  off,  this  accommodating  gen- 
tleman with  the  torch  proceeded  complacently  to  assure  us 
that  the  baggage  would  be  entirely  safe  where  it  lay — that 
there  was  nobody  here  to  trouble  it  for  the  very  good  reason 
that  no  person  lived  within  ten  miles,  on  this  side  of  the 
river,  of  his  solitary  cabin — into  which  he  pressed  us  to  walk 
and  "  make  ourselves  at  home."  But  innocent  as  this  pro- 
position seemed,  I  was  too  much  of  a  traveller  to  leave  any- 
thing at  risk,  even  when  only  my  own  humble  personalities 
— which,  by  the  way,  I  believe  were  then  contained  in  a  pair 
of  saddle-bags — were  considered,  so  I  resisted  this  philan- 


BOEDER  LIFE  IN  THE  WEST.  217 

thropic  proposition  at  once,  and  was  instantly  seconded  by 

my  friend  H ,  who  was  himself  a  wary  and  experienced 

traveller.  A  comparative  stranger  to  this  whole  region,  I  had 
no  definite  suspicion,  and  for  all  I  knew  to  the  contrary,  this 
proposition  might  have  been  as  unsophisticated  and  simply  un- 
meaning as  any  expression  of  the  security  of  property  that 
might  have  fallen  from  the  lips  of  a  piping  shepherd  peasant 
of  Arcadia.  But  of  a  sooth,  I  had  somehow  learned  to  dis- 
trust Arcadias  in  geneial,  and  river-shore  Arcadias  in  partic- 
ular. To  be  sure,  my  friend's  manner  had  not  been  unnoted ; 
but  as  he  had  not  chosen  to  tender  an  explanation,  I  did  not 
choose  to  ask  one,  and  besides,  there  was  in  the  manner  of 
this  man  of  the  torch,  whom  I  had  closely  watched,  a  some- 
thing which  I  did  not  understand — in  the  way  in  which  he 
tried  the  weight  of  those  unfortunate  silver-mounted  boxes  as 
they  were  passed  on  to  him  by  the  boat's  crew,  for  him  to 
keep  in  a  convenient  place  upon  the  shore !  Our  Yankee, 
whom  self-sufficiency  had  evidently  —  as  we  say  in  the 
"West  —  "struck  with  the  blind  staggers,"  could  not  help 
making  the  matter  worse  by  joking  with  the  fellow  about 
them. 

"  Aint  they  very  heavy?"  asked  he,  with  a  shrewd  wink 
at  us.  "  They  had  oughter  have  somethhr  in  'em,  I  guess  I" 

Therewith  he  snapped  his  eyes,  shrugged  his  shoulders, 
licked  out  his  tongue  and  guffawed  obstreperously.  The  fel- 
low said — "  Yes,  they  is  !" — and  looking  up  with  a  furtive 
glance,  he  too  laughed — but  it  was  with  a  strange  laugh-— 
"  You  seem  to  be  all  right !" 

I  noticed  this  incident  and  it  threw  me  at  once  into  the  im- 
perative mood,  and  seizing  one  end  of  the  trunk  of  my  friend, 
which  I  knew  to  contain  a  large  amount  of  valuables,  I  or- 
dered the  fellow  to  take  the  other,  and  whispering  to  H , 

as  I  passed  him,  said, 

"  Stay  here  ;  I  will  watch  in  the  cabin !" 

The  cabin  of  our  compulsory  host  was  about  fifty  paces 
from  the  landing,  and  to  reach  it  we  had  to  pass  through  piles 


218  WILD  SCENES   AND  SONG-BIRDS. 

of  cord-wood,  which,  left  only  a  narrow  alley  between  them 
and  the  hut  which  they  partially  obscured. 

It  was  the  usual  square  pen  of  logs,  with  only  one  room 
and  a  wide  fire-place,  in  which  now  burned  a  dim  blaze. 
When  we  sat  the  trunk  down  on  the  side  nearest  the  door, 
the  man  commenced  talking  in  what  I  thought  a  somewhat 
insolent  tone,  about  how  unnecessary  it  was  for  us  to  be 
troubled  with  lugging  in  all  those  heavy  trunks,  when  they 
were  perfectly  safe  on  the  bank.  I  very  quietly  answered 
that,  as  the  night  promised  to  be  stormy,  we  preferred  having 
our  baggage  under  shelter,  and  directed  him  to  go  back  and 
assist  my  friends  in  bringing  the  remainder  in.  The  fellow 
went  off  sulkily,  and  very  &oon  he  and  the  Yankee  returned, 
bending  under  the  weight  of  one  of  that  respectable  proficient's 
mysterious  black  trunks.  My  friend  had  remained  behind 
to  guard  the  rest  of  the  baggage.  I  felt  uneasy  that  he  should 
be  left  there  in  the  dark  alone,  for  I  knew  that  he  as  well  as 
myself  was  unarmed,  and  unable  to  restrain  my  impatience, 
I  said  to  him,  as  coolly  as  possible,  in  an  undertone — • 

"  See  here,  my  green  one.  You  had  better  look  out  for 
yourself.  You  are  not  in  old  Connecticut  now !" 

"  Waal  now,  I  guess  I  will.  They  don't  cheat  me  out  of 
nothin'!" 

Seeing  that  the  fellow  was  incorrigible  I  left  him,  drag- 
ging the  man  of  the  wood-yard  after  me,  as  I  hurried  back 
to  the  side  of  my  friend,  fearing  vaguely  that  something  might 
have  occurred.  I  found  him,  however,  walking  back  and 
forth,  with  folded  arms,  before  the  baggage,  and  with  an  ex- 
pression of  uneasiness  that  so  precisely  corresponded  with 
my  own  feelings  as  to  assure  me  that  there  must  surely  be 
something  wrong  one  way  or  another. 

The  baggage  was  now  housed  as  quickly  as  possible  by 
our  united  efforts.  As  my  older  friend  had  not  yet  said  any- 
thing which  implied  the  slightest  distrust  of  our  present  po- 
sition and  relations,  I,  as  the  younger  man,  was  compelled 
to  take  it  for  granted  that  he  saw  nothing  which  would  justify 


BORDER  LIFE   IN  THE   WEST.  219 

any  apprehensions  on  our  part.  I  knew  that  lie  had  been 
an  incessant  traveller  like  myself,  but  an  older  one  by  double 
the  age,  and  therefore,  in  spite  of  my  misgivings,  had  to  fall 
into  his  manner  of  treating  things. 

After  we  were  all  fairly  housed,  bag  and  baggage,  I  ac- 
cordingly left  the  cue  to  him.  I  knew  that  the  greater  por- 
tion of  the  wealth  he  possessed,  which  was  very  considerable, 
was  contained  in  that  rusty-looking,  travel-stained  trunk, 
upon  which  he  quietly  sat  down ;  and  being  aware  of  all  he 
had  at  stake,  could  not  help  admiring  the  sang  froid  with 
which  he  faced  the  conditions  in  which  he  found  himself.  He 
bantered  our  rough  host  in  all  sorts  of  droll  ways,  and  seemed 
to  be  utterly  indifferent  as  to  whether  he  gave  offence  or  not. 

Our  sappy  Yankee,  in  the  meantime,  commenced  making  a 
great  clamor  about  something  to  eat  and  drink,  and  expressed 
the  wildest  astonishment  when  the  man  assured  him  that  he  had 
no  whiskey  in  the  house,  and  nothing  to  eat  but  a  little  corn 
meal. 

"  Du  tell !"  shouted  the  astounded  fellow.  "  Not  got  nothin' 
to  eat?  Why,  how  du  you  live  out  here?" 

"  On  mud-cats,  with  soap-stone  to  butter  'em  I"  interposed 
my  friend,  laughing.  "But,  Yankee,  what  do  you  want  with 
anything  more  to  eat  to-night?  I  saw  you  eat  enough  for 
three  men  at  the  supper-table,  before  you  left  the  boat." 

"  AVhy,  la !  what  has  a  fellow  got  to  do  but  to  eat  and 
drink,  too?  I  say,  old  fellow,  git  eout  your  Injun  flour; 
you  ain't  got  no  pumkins,  ain't  you  ?  Wall,  let's  have  your 
Injun  doins — though  you  be's  mighty  bad  off  here,  not  to 
have  pumkins  nor  whiskey." 

Our  host  now  suddenly  became  excessively  obliging,  and 
immediately  paraded  his  peck  of  meal,  with  a  spider  to  cook 
it  in,  and  even  became  so  prodigal  in  his  desire  to  gratify  the 
guzzling  propensities  of  our  Yankee,  as  to  hint  that  he  might 
be  able  to  get  us  some  whiskey. 

Yankee  was  hugely  overjoyed  at  the  idea,  while  I  was  in- 
tensely vexed  and  annoyed. 


220  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIEDS. 

The  moment  the  man  was  beyond  ear-shot,  I  turned  to 
Yankee,  and  said  sharply,  "Look  you,  my  good  fellow,  if 
you  don't  beware  how  you  use  that  whiskey,  you  may  chance 
to  wake  up  with  your  throat  cut  before  you  are  done  with  it." 

The  fellow  only  laughed  out  coarsely,  and  asserted,  with 
a  sly  wink  toward  my  friend — 

"  That  he  wan't  afraid  of  whiskey's  cutting  his  throat,  and 
wondered  if  I  was  afraid  ?" 

I  turned  from  him  in  disgust,  remarking,  "  I  see  you've 
got  to  learn  a  great  deal  about  the  West  yet." 

In  a  moment  after  our  host  entered  the  door,  and  to  our 
no  little  astonishment,  accompanied  by  a  train  of  powerful, 
ruffianly -looking  fellows,  which  numbered,  along  with  him- 
self, six  in  all,  and  made  a  by  no  means  grateful  addition  to 
our  company. 

A  suspicion,  which,  as  I  have  observed,  continued  to  gain 
ground  upon  me,  that  we  had  fallen  upon  evil  times  here, 
and  certainly  into  evil  company ;  for  I  never  remembered 
chancing  upon  a  more  villainous  group  than  this  which  now 
gathered  about  us. 

I  was  fully  roused  to  the  feeling  of  doubt  and  insecurity, 
as  I  carefully  watched  the  movements  of  these  fellows.  I 
perceived  in  a  moment  that  they  were  armed  with  knives  as 
well  as  whiskey  bottles.  A  look  immediately  passed  between 
my  friend  and  myself,  and  my  course  was  determined  upon 
for  we  were  both,  so  far  as  I  knew,  unarmed,  and  I  saw 
while  they  gathered  more  closely  around  us,  with  rough  but 
over  friendly  greetings,  that  each  man  of  them  carried  his 
knife  with  but  a  clumsy  pretext  of  concealment  underneath 
his  shirt.  I  now  felt  at  once  what  was  the  course  proper  to 
be  pursued.  That  as  we  were  in  their  power  but  too  evi- 
dently, our  only  available  course  for  the  present,  was  in 
temporizing,  and  I  saw  too  that  it  would  be  utterly  useless 
for  us  to  make  any  calculations  upon  the  Yankee,  who  re- 
ceived them  with  a  boisterous  greeting.  They  immediately 
offered  him  the  whiskey-bottle.  He  snatched  it  eagerly. 


BOEDER  LIFE   IN  THE   WEST.  221 

"  Ha  I  ha !  That's  great — du  tell  now,  boys,  where' d  you 
all  cum  from  ?  Good  old  Eye,  hey  ?"  and  in  spite  of  all  my 
efforts  to  telegraph  a  warning  to  him  against  drinking  it, 
down  went  a  deep  draught  at  once.  I  felt  convinced  that  the 
liquor  had  been  drugged,  and  when  the  bottle  was  passed  to 
me,  I  turned  my  head  towards  my  friend,  and  while  I  pretend- 
ed to  be  taking  even  a  longer  and  deeper  potation  than  that  in 
which  the  unconscious  Yankee  indulged,  my  eye  met  his,  and 
a  look  of  peculiar  significance  was  exchanged.  I  moved  the 
muscles  of  my  throat  as  if  swallowing  rapidly,  though  I  forced 
the  villainous  decoction  out  of  the  corners  of  my  mouth. 

I  saw  that  I  was  closely  watched,  but  I  had  turned  my  back 
upon  the  faint  light  of  the  fire,  and  thus  managed  to  escape 
detection  in  this  manoeuvre — for  although  the  fellow  to  whom 
I  returned  the  bottle,  held  it  before  the  light  for  an  instant 
to  satisfy  himself  whether  a  sufficient  quantity  had  disap- 
peared to  justify  the  extraordinary  length  of  the  suction  I 
had  seemingly  indulged — I  had  taken  care  of  that,  and  had 
smacked  my  lips  with  such  extraordinary  relish,  that  he 
turned  away  with  a  leer  of  unmistakable  gratification.  Vil- 
lian !  thought  I,  you  missed  your  aim  this  time,  clear  enough ! 

I  felt  a  momentary  uneasiness  as  I  saw  them  now  gather 
about  him,  from  the  fear  of  the  possibility  that  my  friend  might 
not  have  taken  the  hint  fully.  Suddenly  becoming  jovial,  I 
laughed  out  as  they  presented  the  bottle  to  him. 

"  Oh  no,  boys,  it's  no  use — he  never  drinks ;  besides,  don't 
you  see  how  sleepy  he  is  ?"  My  friend  had  suddenly  grown 
drowsy,  and  was  leaning  his  head  back  against  the  log  wall, 
with  eyes  nearly  closed.  But  they  seemed  determined  he 
should  be  dosed  at  any  rate,  and  although  he  shook  his  head 
and  drawled  out  in  a  half  articulate  way,  that  he  was  too 
sleepy  to  drink,  they  continued  to  urge  upon  him  to  rouse 
up  and  "  take  something." 

I  interrupted  these  hospitable  designs,  by  insisting  that 
they  should  come  and  drink  with  Yankee  and  myself,  assur- 
ing them  with  a  somewhat  roystering  manner — 


222  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIRDS. 

"  I  tell  you,  my  good  fellows,  the  old  man  will  be  sound 
asleep — yes,  dead  asleep — for  I  know  him  of  old !  How  he 
sleeps !  Why,  you  might  fire  a  pistol  in  his  ear  when  he 
once  gets  at  it,  and  he  would  never  hear  it." 

A  low,  broad-shouldered  fellow  with  wiry  muscular  frame, 
a  throat  hairy  as  a  grizzly  bear's  with  a  black  tangled  shag 
upon  his  head,  mean,  narrow  wrinkled  forehead,  and  thick, 
inky  brows  that  sat  above  his  vulture  beak,  and  shaded  a 
pair  of  small  black  eyes,  the  cunning  and  remorseless  feroc- 
ity of  the  expression  of  which  I  never  saw  surpassed  in  man 
or  beast — now  turned  upon  me  with  a  sharp  suspicious  look, 
as  if  he  questioned  my  meaning  in  this  last  speech,  but  the 
expression  of  maudlin  jollity  into  which  my  features  had 
fallen,  seemed  to  satisfy  him. 

The  Yankee  now  too  came  to  my  rescue,  and  produced  a 
diversion  of  attention  also  from  my  friend  and  myself,  by 
obstreperous  displays  of  the  convivial  spirit  which  were  alto- 
gether too  unmistakable  for  even  lingering  suspicion. 

The  bottle  was  once  more  passed  to  him,  but  when  they 
did  me  the  honor  to  pay  me  the  same  favor,  after  pretending 
to  drink  again,  I  insisted  that  they  should  also  drink  with 
us,  "  in  compliment,"  not  as  a  pledge  of  hospitality,  which 
appeal  as  I  knew  among  men  of  loyalty,  however  rude, 
would  have  been  considered  sacred,  but  among  such  as  those 
into  whose  power  we  seemed  to  have  fallen,  would  only  have 
been  regarded  as  indicating  suspicion  on  my  part. 

They  all  made  a  noisy  parade  of  their  readiness  to  drink 
with  the  "  gentleman,"  but  each  one  of  them,  as  he  received 
the  bottle,  turned  his  back  upon  us  while  he  drank,  or,  as  I 
was  convinced,  pretended  to  drink. 

The  fellows  continued  to  grow  very  familiar  and  obstrep- 
erous, especially  when  the  Yankee,  in  an  astonishingly  short 
time,  began  to  give  satisfactory  indication  of  having  got  his 
full  "  dose."  His  eyelids  became  exceedingly  heavy,  while 
his  gait  wavered,  and  his  tongue  stuttered. 

Now  the  revel  ran  high  apparently,  although  he  was  the 


BOEDER  LIFE  IN  THE  WEST.  223 

only  person  in  that  cabin  room  who  had  drank  a  drop  of  the 
accursed  mixture.  The  creature's  evidently  besotted  condi- 
tion had  proved  a  capital  foil  to  the  game  played  by  myself, 
for  with  such  proof  of  the  success  of  the  villainous  trick  upon 
one  of  the  party,  it  was  very  natural  for  them  to  suppose, 
when  they  saw  my  friend  H—  -  with  his  head  thrown  back, 
his  mouth  wide  apart,  breathing  heavily,  as  if  in  a  sound  sleep, 
upon  his  trunk,  and  found,  too,  that  I,  a  rather  boyish  look- 
ing somebody  at  the  best,  seemed  to  have  fallen  so  readily 
into  their  gull-trap — would  soon  fall  into  the  same  condition 
towards  which  Yankee  was  fast  verging. 

I  took  good  care  to  contribute  to  this  charitable  expecta- 
tion as  far  as  possible,  and  the  fellows  now  became  more  un- 
guarded. One  of  them  deliberately  sat  down  upon  the  heap 
of  the  Yankee's  baggage,  picked  up  one  of  the  ill-omened 
cherry-wood  boxes,  deliberately  weighed  it  in  his  hands,  and 
replaced  it,  looking  up  at  the  same  time  with  a  broad  wink, 
a  nod,  and  a  chuckle  into  the  faces  of  those  nearest  to  him. 
I  pretended  not  to  notice  this.  I  had  so  frequently  noticed 
one  and  another  of  them  as  they  pretended  to  stumble  over 
these  boxes,  pause  to  weigh  them  with  their  feet,  that  this 
insolent  manoeuvre  only  served  to  remind  me  of  the  greater 
imminence  of  our  position,  and,  if  possible,  to  open  my  eyes 
the  wider.  Things  looked  very  dark  to  me,  it  must  be  con- 
fessed. Yankee,  it  was  clear  enough,  was  under  the  influ- 
ence of  some  soporific  potion,  to  a  degree  that  rendered  him  ut- 
terly helpless — it  might  be  that  H was  really  sound  asleep 

— at  all  events,  he  certainly  counterfeited  it  so  well  as  to 
leave  me  in  absolute  doubt — and  I,  a  slight  youth,  left  alone 
to  guard  these  two  lives  and  all  this  property,  of  the  amount 
of  which  I  could  scarcely  conjecture,  and  I  surrounded  by 
six  powerful  ruffians,  with  knives  in  their  bosoms,  who  were 
growing  every  moment  more  insolent  with  what  they  sup- 
posed to  be  the  entire  promise  of  impunity  in  crime, 
which  the  existing  circumstances  afforded — all  this !  and  I 
without  a  weapon,  except  the  arms  God  gave  me,  which 


224  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIRDS. 

would  be  snapped  like  reeds  in  the  grasp  of  these  stalwart 
men ! 

For  a  moment,  a  dark  shadow  passed  over  me  and  I  saw 
myself  embrowned  and  haggard,  returning  after  years  of 
wild  vicissitudes  amidst  the  avowed  and  constant  perils  of 
an  Indian  and  guerilla-ravaged  frontier,  in  what  was  then  a 
foreign  and  unreclaimed  territory — where  my  rifle  and  pis- 
tols had  been  considered  by  me  as  necessary  to  the  extension 
of  my  daily  life  as  my  lungs  and  heart — to  find  myself  here 
on  my  weary  returning  to  the  repose  of  civilization  and 
home,  when  I  had  gladly  thrown  aside  those  weapons,  the 
very  sight  of  which  had  become  painful  to  me,  suddenly  en- 
trapped in  the  surroundings  of  a  new  peril,  perhaps  more 
formidable  than  any  I  had  met  in  my  wanderings,  and  that 
too  without  a  weapon  to  my  hand. 

The  most  terrible  position  in  which  you  can  place  those 
who  habitually  rely  upon  the  use  of  weapons  as  an  equiva- 
lent for  that  physical  prowess  which  they  have  failed  to  cul- 
tivate, is  to  deprive  them  of  them  in  circumstances  of  danger, 
which  otherwise  they  would  have  faced  without  hesitation ! 
It  is  horrible.  As  it  was,  I  was  only  more  sharpened  and 
intensified  in  every  faculty. 

In  a  reckless  way  I  suddenly  exclaimed — 

"  Boys,  I  love  hunting.  I  have  come  down  here  to  hunt  1 
You  must  have  plenty  of  game  around  you  here,  for  you've 
got  woods  enough  I  I've  a  notion  to  stay  with  you  for  a 
day  or  two  on  this  side,  if  there's  any  chance  for  game." 

"  Plenty  of  it  here,  sir !     Plenty  of  it  here  1" 

"  What  is  it  ?     Bear  and  deer,  of  course  ?" 

"  O  yes,  bear  and  deer  plenty — wild  cats — painters  and  all 
that!" 

"  Well,  I'm  with  you.  That's  the  game  for  me.  I  won't 
go  over  with  the  old  man  there,"  pointing  to  my  sleeping 
friend.  "  You  look  like  good  fellows — lie  wants  me  to  go 
over  to  the  other  side  and  fish  with  his  boys,  but  I  don't 
like  fishing  when  there's  bear  and  wild-cat  about — it's  a 


BORDER  LIFE  IN  THE   WEST.  225 

bore.     I  like  to  '  rough,  it'  for  my  part."     Turning  quickly 
to  my  red-haired  host  I  said, 

"  You  all  hunt  of  course — bold  boys  like  you  ?" 

"  Ye-e-es,  we  all  hunts  in  course." 

"  You  have  a  fine-looking,  old-fashioned,  long-barreled 
rifle  up  there  over  the  door,  I  perceive  !"  and  before  any  of 
them  had  time  to  think,  I  staggered  roughly  through  them, 
and  had  the  rifle  down  from  its  buck-horn  hooks.  Its  mas 
sive  barrel  was  a  terrible  weapon,  even  if  unloaded,  for  I 
had  marked  it  from  the  first,  and  it  was  its  possession  I  hau 
been  coveting,  though  altogether  uncertain  as  to  its  being 
charged. 

This  movement  had  been  so  unexpected,  that  they  were 
entirely  unprepared  for  it,  and  I  had  time  to  cock  the  rifle, 
and  with  a  thrill  of  ungovernable  joy,  perceived  that  it  was 
freshly  capped. 

The  muzzle  had  been  instantly  brought  down  to  the  "  pre- 
sent," as  I  placed  my  back  against  the  corner  of  the  cabin. 
There  had  been  a  slight  movement  among  them,  as  if  for  a 
simultaneous  rush  upon  me.  It  was  only  a  scarcely  percep- 
tible wave — but  that  wave  fell  back  before  the  formidable 
muzzle  which  stared  them  in  the  face  with  its  one  dark,  un- 
fathomable orb. 

"  Ah  !  I  see  it  is  loaded — a  fine  rifle  no  doubt !  I  love 
rifles,  and,  Mr.  Host,  I  shall  take  the  liberty  of  examining 
this  for  awhile !"  and  I  walked  through  them  as  they  stood 
gaping  at  me  in  mute  astonishment,  and  took  a  seat  near  my 
sleeping  friend. 

The  tables  were  now  effectually  changed,  and  as  I  sat 
down  on  one  of  the  trunks  of  H ,  I  felt  it  to  be  unneces- 
sary longer  to  counterfeit  drunkenness,  for  I  had  earned  ex- 
perience enough  of  ruffians  already  to  understand  that  they 
were  all  cowards,  and  incapable,  unless  armed  with  similar 
weapons,  and  in  overpowering  numbers,  of  facing  a  resolute 
man  with  a  loaded  fire-arm.  I  had  possessed  myself,  by  a 
coup  de  main,  of  the  weapon  of  my  villainous,  inhospitable 

15 


226  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIRDS. 

host,  and  determined  to  make  him  the  first  target  of  its  aim 
in  the  event  of  contingencies.  Assuming  at  once  an  impera- 
tive tone,  I  demanded  of  the  fellow,  with  his  own  rifle  lying 
across  my  knees,  cocked — my  finger  in  the  guard  and  the 
barrel  levelled  at  his  bosom — 

"  Where  did  you  get  that  whiskey  from  ?" 

"  Got  it  up  here  in  the  woods,"  he  answered  sulkily. 

"  Where,  up  in  the  woods,  my  good  fellow  ?  Did  you  not 
represent,  when  we  landed  here,  that  there  were  no  persons 
living  within  ten  miles  of  your  cabin,  and  that  therefore  it 
was  a  needless  precaution  for  us  to  bring  our  baggage  in  ? 
Where  do  all  these  fellows  come  from — up  in  the  woods,  I 
suppose,  where  the  whiskey  came  from  ?" 

"  Yes,  the  boys  have  got  a  shanty  up  there." 

"  Well,  it  must  be  precious  liquor  you  sell  among  you ! 
Look  at  that  man  there  who  has  been  fool  enough  to  drink 
of  your  poisoned  whiskey !"  I  pointed  to  Yankee,  who  had 
by  this  time  fallen  helplessly  across  his  ill-fated  cherry-wood 
boxes,  with  all  the  relaxed  expression  of  the  abandon  of  re- 
pose peculiar  to  those  suffering  under  the  effect  of  strong 
narcotics.  The  fellow  only  grunted  out — 

"  The  fool  is  drunk  !  The  whiskey  is  good  enough  I"  and 
sundry  mutterings  and  murmurings  ran  around  the  circle. 
I  had  noticed  a  slight  stir  of  my  friend's  body  during  this 
conversation,  and  suddenly  there  was  a  faint  jingling — the 
heavy  sleeper  had  fallen  upon  his  knees  before  his  trunk — 
the  lock  snapped,  and  in  a  twinkling  a  pair  of  nine-inch  bar- 
rel ounce-ball  pistols  were  exhumed,  clicking  as  they  came 
forth,  and  shutting  down  the  lid  of  his  trunk,  with  a  pistol 
in  each  hand,  the  drowsy  gentleman  assumed  the  old  atti- 
tude of  profound  sleep,  with  his  fingers  cautiously  resting  on 
the  outside  of  the  hair-trigger  guard.  This  was  too  rich.  I 
laughed  outright. 

"  You  can't  come  it,  my  boys,"  said  I,  as  I  threw  myself 
back  in  a  guarded  ecstasy  of  mirth. 

"  Can't  come  what  ?"  said  the  beetle-browed  ruffian. 


BOEDER  LIFE   IN   THE   WEST.  227 

"  Oh,  nothing,"  said  I,  "  except  that  you  had  better  walk 
out  of  that  door,  the  whole  of  you,  and  if  you  want  some- 
thing to  do,  you  may  bring  me  some  wood,  for  our  fire  is 
all,  or  nearly  exhausted  !" 

The  fellows  had  been  completely  cowed  by  the  unexpected 
demonstration  of  my  sleepy  friend.  They  pretended  to  con- 
sider this  command  as  a  mere  joke,  and  all  started  towards 
the  door  with  so  much  alacrity,  that  my  constitutional  cau- 
tion was  aroused,  and  I  suddenly  remembered  that  during 
the  jargon  of  talk  that  had  occurred  between  us,  under  the 
pretence  of  mutual  exhilaration,  I  had  gathered  the  fact  that 
they  had  a  small  boat  tied  to  the  river  bank  near  the  wood- 
yard — and  that  in  this  boat  I  had  announced  that  I  intended 
so  soon  as  the  storm  that  still  raged  had  subsided,  to  embark 
with  my  friend  and  undertake  the  passage  of  the  river,  for  I 
wished  as  soon  as  possible  to  place  it  between  us  and  this 
inhospitable  shore.  It  flashed  across  me  now,  from  their 
over-ready  manner,  that  they  meant  to  get  possession  of  this 
boat,  and  shut  off  all  prospect  of  our  early  escape,  with  the 
purpose  of  gaining  time  to  bring  together  a  stronger  party, 
who  might  with  fire-arms  cope  with  the  unexpected  advan- 
tages of  which  we  had  placed  ourselves  in  possession.  These 
woods  had  suddenly  become  astonishingly  populous  already, 
and  there  was  no  telling  what  might  come  forth  from  their 
dark  shadows  ! 

I  at  once  determined  that  they  should  not  go  out  alone — 
that  I  would  watch  with  my  own  eyes  every  movement. 

"  Hilloa,  boys  ! — I  will  go  with  you." 

"Oh!  will  you?"  chuckled  the  black-browed  fellow — 
"  come  ahead — who's  afraid  of  the  dark!" 

•'  Well,  I,  for  one,  in  some  company ;  so  you  will  please 
march  ahead  of  me/" 

"By  no  means,  nor  nothing — gentlemen's  goes  ahead  !" 

"  Beg  your  pardon ;  I  am  a  man,  for  the  present — so  you 
will  please  walk  in  front  of  me,  and  I  will  go  down  to  the 
river  bank  with  you  for  wood." 


228  WILD  SCENES  AND   SONG-BIBDS. 

Nothing  more  was  said  between  us,  and  the  party  launched 
out  into  the  darkness,  in  single  file,  followed  by  myself,  with 
my  host's  own  rifle  on  half-cock  and  at  the  present.  The  rain 
had  ceased,  but  a  strong  wind  was  still  blowing  that  troubled 
the  broad  waters  of  the  Ohio  with  a  strange  tumult.  There 
seemed  a  dusky  portent  in  the  swiftly-drifting  clouds  and 
wail  of  the  departing  storm,  that  truly  comported  with  the 
bleak  characteristics  of  the  gloomily-pictured  scene.  The 
forest  in  the  back  ground,  a  lofty  mass  of  impenetrable 
blackness ;  the  small  opening  in  which  stood  the  cabin  and 
the  petty  wood-yard,  faintly  felt  rather  than  defined  to  the 
vision ;  the  great  river  roaring  and  lashed  upon  the  shelving 
bank,  seen  dimly,  as  we  see  visions  through  deep  mists  that 
go  fading  through  the  uttermost  abyss :  the  bad,  ferocious 
men  about  me,  and  no  star  in  all  the  funereal  heavens  I — 
such  a  sense  of  God-forsaken  desolation  as  came  over  me  on 
the  first  moments  in  which  I  stepped  out  into  this  scene,  had 
never  before  in  my  whole  life  overtaken  me  amidst  all  its 
turbulent  exigencies. 

But  that  I  had  no  time  for  sentimentalizing,  soon  became 
apparent ;  for,  I  found  that  these  fellows  were  all  the  time 
attempting  to  surround,  or  get  behind  me.  It  required  all 
my  resolution  and  wariness  to  prevent  this ;  but,  as  I  always 
stood  apart  from  them,  and  always  carried  the  rifle  in  one 
significant  position,  they  were  content,  after  having  dragged 
the  boat  up  to  a  point  which  I  had  marked  out  as  one  that 
could  be  commanded  from  a  narrow  port-hole  in  the  cabin, 
which  they  called  a  window — to  pick  up  the  splinters  of 
cord-wood  and  drift  which  lined  the  shore,  and  carry  them 
in  the  same  order  of  procession  back  to  the  cabin. 

I  never  before  until  this  night,  realized  what  the  struggle  of 
will  with  the  Demon  of  massacre  meant  1  Such  tense-strung 
nerve,  such  vigilant  strain  of  sense  would  exhaust  the  very 
Lucifer  himself,  if  long  protracted.  The  instinct  of  murder 
is  the  most  dull-lipped  and  dogged  of  all  those  extravagant 
passions  that  beset  mankind.  The  Wolf  is  the  prototype  of 


BORDER  LIFE  IN  THE  WEST.  229 

murder.  It  never  tires  :  watchful  always,  it  trails  despair  to 
death :  confessedly  a  coward,  it  shrinks  before  the  open  eye 
of  will,  but  ever  follows,  follows,  follows ! — whither  ?  until 
the  weary  stagger,  and  can  no  longer  strive — then  they  be- 
come brave,  then  they  tear  his  bones  with  gnashings,  and  toss 
upward  open,  brainless,  eyeless  skulls,  in  the  exultings  of  a 
bloody  satiety ! 

I  now  surveyed  the  whole  ground  carefully,  so  far  as  the 
imperfect  light  would  permit,  as  I  followed  these  men  back 
to  the  cabin,  thinking  how  to  get  rid  of  the  whole  set  as  soon 
as  possible.  I  marched  them  in  before  me  ;  kept  a  close  ac- 
count of  their  numbers,  and  had  a  blazing  fire  immediately 
lit.  I  had  no  idea  of  trusting  to  twilight  with  such  comrades ! 
Everything  now  seemed  to  promise  quiet  for  the  time. 

The  men  became,  or  pretended  to  become,  sleepy  at  once, 
when  we  got  back  to  the  cabin — our  red-haired  host  in  spe- 
cial, who  seemed  suddenly  overtaken  in  hot  haste  by  the 
pursuing  Morpheus — threw  himself  across  the  dirty  platform 
that  he  called  a  bed,  which  stood  in  the  corner,  mounted  on 
forked  posts,  and  covered  with  skins  and  greasy  blankets, 
and  forthwith  commenced  snoring  away  most  sonorously. 
He  was  joined  by  another  of  the  fellows,  who  floundered 
down  by  his  side,  while  the  others  began  to  arrange  them- 
selves, some  with  their  heads  upon  the  coveted  boxes,  and 
others  upon  carpet-bags,  &c. 

My  benevolent-looking  friend  with  the  black  brows 
stretched  himself  on  the  floor  across  the  hearth,  with  his 
back  to  the  fire,  while  poor  I  was  content  with  seating  my- 
self upon  a  trunk  just  underneath  the  port-hole.  I  saw  what 
must  be  the  object  of  this  manoeuvre.  By  pretending  to  be 
asleep  themselves,  they  hoped  to  throw  us  off  our  guard, 
calculating  that  towards  day-break  we  might  be  come  wearied 
out,  and  sink  into  sleep  too  ;  but  I  had  determined  not  to  be 
cajoled,  and  kept  wary  watch  upon  them  through  the  corner 
of  my  apparently  closed  eyes.  I  felt  well  assured  that  my 
astute  friend  of  the  nine-inch  barrels  was  doing  the  same 


230  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIKDS. 

thing,  although  he  seemed  to  be  sound  asleep,  and  his  face 
appeared  as  stolid  as  any  wooden  effigy.  The  sneaking  ras- 
cals could  not  even  play  the  game  of  this  flimsy  deception 
well.  During  an  hour  the  silence  was  terrible — for  the  roar 
and  creaking  wails  of  the  stormy  winds  through  the  deep 
forest  outside,  and  the  mournful  beat  of  the  lashed  waters, 
were  the  only  sounds :  since  the  voices  of  the  wild  creatures 
of  the  darkness  and  the  wilds  were  all  stilled — while  within, 
the  deep,  irregular  breathing  of  the  simulating  ruffians  con- 
stituted a  depressing  under-tone.  I  grew  excessively  nerv- 
ous— the  presence  of  these  wretches  was  a  fearful  incubus 
in  connection  with  our  other  surroundings,  and  the  discom- 
fort of  our  general  position  was  not  a  little  increased  when, 
after  this  interminable  hour,  I  perceived — for  I  had  kept  my 
eye  most  constantly  fixed  upon  the  black-browed  fellow  as 
the  most  dangerous  of  the  party — that  he  changed  his  posi- 
tion so  as  to  command  a  full  view  of  me,  and  as  I  drew  my 
slightly-separated  lashes  nearer  together,  I  could  feel  the 
cold,  glittering  point  from  his  half-open,  furtive  glance,  ques- 
tioning my  face.  There  was  something  so  essentially  wolfish 
in  this  trick,  that  I  involuntarily  shuddered,  and  was  just  in 
the  act  of  springing  to  my  feet,  with  the  purpose  of  making 
an  end  of  this  uncertainty,  by  a  coup  de  main  of  some  sort, 
when  I  noticed  a  movement  from  the  bed  in  the  corner, 
which  induced  me  to  wait  and  see  if  they  would  begin  an  ac- 
tive demonstration  on  their  part. 

My  red-headed  host  had  also  turned  over,  and  I  saw  that 
he,  too,  was  watching  H and  myself  through  his  half- 
opened  eye.  Best  assured  those  of  you  who  may,  by  any 
contingency,  be  placed  in  suspicious  relations  to  the  preda, 
tory  man — that  he  always  acts  most  upon  the  animal  in 
stincts — that,  in  a  word,  he  is  a  wild  beast  of  prey !  and  thai 
if  you  have  studied  the  habits  of  the  wild  beast  well,  you 
will  know  the  tricks,  the  feints,  and  the  modes  of  plunder  and 
murder  most  likely  to  be  adopted  by  the  human  wolf,  wild- 
cat, panther,  tiger,  lion  or  bear.  Only  make  up  your  mind 


BORDER  LIFE  IN  THE  WEST.  231 

to  regard  him  as  more  the  brute  than  the  man,  and  you  will 
find  that  jour  studies  in  natural  history  have  not  been  thrown 
away. 

These  wretches  were  wolves,  and  I  had  often  seen  this 
animal  exhibit  this  counterfeit  sleep  before  in  actual  nature, 
and  therefore  knew  what  it  meant.  The  joke  was,  though, 
that  my  friend  had  actually  out-wolfed  the  wolves  at  their 
own  game  of  counterfeit,  and  to  all  appearances  I  had  been 
nearly  as  successful,  for  they  began  now  to  stir  rather  simul- 
taneously. 

The  sleep  of  Yankee  had  continued  as  profound  as  from 
the  first ;  my  friend's  face  seemed  as  stolid  as  ever,  and  I 
suppose  I  too  must  have  looked  the  sleeper  better  than  the 
wolf  could  counterfeit  it,  for  they  clearly  took  it  for  granted 
that  I  was  sound  asleep — since  they  commenced  telegraphing 
to  each  other  now  through  the  silence  by  gestures! 

"  Suddenly  there  came  a  rapping"  at  the  thin  plank  door ; 
the  fellows  did  not  stir,  nor  did  we !  Now  came  knocks 
louder  and  more  frequent,  which  left  us  both  without  any 
pretext  for  remaining  quiet  any  longer,  so  we  sprang  to  our 
feet  simultaneously,  and  as  if  really  awakening  from  a  deep 
sleep,  and  asked,  "  What  is  the  matter  ? — what  does  this 
mean  ?" 

The  men  deliberately  and  sluggishly  arose,  and  the  host 
opened  the  door,  while  I  threw  on  an  additional  piece  of 
bark  to  the  fire. 

Out  from  the  cavernous  dark  emerged  the  most  grotesque 
form  that  ever  Eetsch  figured  as  the  lank-haired  goblin  of 
some  haunted  fountain,  creeping  up  to  stare  upon  the  light, 
and  fright  its  fated  victim. 

He  was  dripping  from  every  stringy  lock,  and  each  tatter 
streamed  with  its  separate  stream.  His  face,  ghostly  cadav- 
erous and  thin,  seemed  from  its  hollow  eyes  to  stare  the 
jaundiced  famine  of  a  sick  vulture — sickened  on  the  green 
sance  of  slime,  amidst  which  its  offal  prey  had  floated.  Too 
rich ! — too  rich  !  for  even  such  a  stomach. 


232  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIKDS. 

It  was  indeed  a  horrible  creature — possessing  a  life  the 
most  strangely  incomprehensible  that  can  be  conceived,  and 
the  only  parallels  to  which,  in  the  disguise  of  humanity,  that 
are  to  be  found  among  us,  exist  in  the  buzzard  race  of  rag- 
picking  gutter- rakers,  which  the  dreadful  distortions  of  Euro- 
pean life  have  weekly  vomited  upon  our  shores. 

The  creature  was  what  is  called  a  boat  or  river  thief — one 
who  lived  by  petty  thieving — a  prowler  along  the  desolate 
river  shore,  from  small  settlement  to  settlement — a  compara- 
tive harmless  wretch,  appropriating  everything  he  could  lay 
his  hands  upon  in  the  shape  of  movable  or  convertable 
property ;  boats,  poultry,  pigs  and  groceries,  left  exposed 
one  night  upon  the  landings.  He  had  evidently  received 
a  severe  striping  lately — most  probably  for  some  petty 
theft — as  I  could  see  the  blue  whelks  and  blood-crusted 
scars  plainly  enough  through  the  loop-holes  of  his  tattered 
shirt. 

It  was  droll  indeed  to  witness  the  airs  of  "  indignant  vir- 
tue" forthwith  assumed  by  the  delectable  and  "  chosen"  in- 
nocents who  constituted  the  inmates  of  the  hut.  They  rose 
at  once  upon  the  poor  miserable  devil,  as  the  wolf  snarls 
through  white  tusks  at  the  feeble  carrion  crow,  or  at  the 
slow- winged,  obscene  aura,  that  comes  flapping  in  slow  glide 
above  a  promised  feast.  He  begged  for  food  in  vain,  and 
before  he  had  time  to  whine  out  his  pitiful  story,  they  seized 
and  hurled  him  out  into  the  darkness  from  whence  he  had 
emerged,  floating  on  a  drift-log  down  the  fretful  river.  I 
felt  as  if  the  time  had  come  when  I  must  act,  if  ever.  So 
standing  behind  these  virtuous  gentry,  just  as  they  had  suc- 
ceeded in  turning  out  the  poor  river-thief,  by  their  united 
efforts,  my  friend  and  myself  presented  ourselves  at  the  door 
with  weapons  cocked,  and  ordered  them  peremptorily  off, 
telling  them  that  we  knew  them  to  be  far  TV  :>rse  and  more 
dangerous  scoundrels  than  the  poor  creature  they  had  thrown 
into  night. 

"  Now  I"  said  I,  "  we  understand  you  fully  for  a  set  of 


BOEDER  LIFE  IN  THE  WEST.  233 

cut-throats  and  robbers,  and  we  give  you  fair  warning  that 
the  first  man  of  you  who  touches  the  boat  which  is  fastened 
to  the  river  shore  down  there,  I  will  shoot,  and  with  an  aim 
that  never  misses — remember  that." 

The  rascals  slunk  away  into  the  dark  along  with  the  re- 
pudiated Kelpie  of  the  desolate  river,  and  we  were  quickly 
left  alone. 

To  barricade  the  door  with  trunks  and  all  the  cord- wood 
we  had  at  command,  was  the  first  movement,  and  then  to 
take  my  position  as  sentinel  at  the  port-hole  window,  which 
overlooked  the  place  of  the  boat,  was  the  next.  Not  a  word 
passed  between  my  friend  and  myself.  He  resumed  his  seat 
next  the  door  upon  his  trunk,  and  there  he  continued  stol- 
idly to  sit. 

The  long  rifle  of  which  I  had  considered  myself  justified  in 
depriving  my  treacherous  host,  lay  rested  upon  the  port-hole, 
and  bearing  upon  the  precious  boat  which  was  to  rescue  us 
from  this  terrible  isolation  amidst  ruffianism  in  the  morning. 

Oh,  a  long,  long  time  passed — God  only  knows  how  long 
it  was ! — and  still  I  was  standing  watching  the  poor  little 
canoe — for  I  could  yet  distinguish  that  frail  craft — the  posi- 
tion of  which  I  had  jealously  marked,  having  directed  that  it 
should  be  at  the  foot  of  a  tall  sepulchral  sycamore,  that  stood 
out  with  its  white  bark  as  a  relief  against  the  dreary  gloom. 

At  last,  I  saw  two  shadows  creeping  along  the  dim  shore, 
the  cold,  misty  twilight,  as  the  sombre  morning  crept  on- 
wards, making  them  more  vague. 

I  had  shivered  and  stood  uncertain,  anxious  and  distrustful 
so  long,  through  this  weary  night,  that  everything  seemed 
at  last — now  that  nature  was  giving  out — unreal,  and  when 
I  saw  palpably  before  my  eyes  two  men  enter  this  boat,  and 
heard  immediately  the  beat  of  oars  or  paddles,  what  could  I 
do  other  than  fire  at  the  objects  in  the  boat?  A  shriek  told 
all  the  story,  and  the  boat  was  instantly  whirled  down  the 
stream. 

The  only  immediate  consolation  that  I  ever  received  from 


234  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIRDS. 

this  scene,  was  that  the  very  fellow  whom  I  considered  the 
most  dangerous  of  the  group — and  who  was  the  black-browed 
scoundrel  that  I  have  particularized — was  the  person  who 
received  in  his  own  breast  the  ball  which  I  suppose  he  had 
intended  should  strike  the  "  river  chicken-thief,"  as  he  had 
immediately  endeavored  to  throw  himself  in  the  bottom  of 
the  boat.  But  the  ball  had  been  too  swift  for  him ! 

We  afterwards  heard  that  this  man  was  a  horribly  notori- 
ous boat-robber  and  murderer,  and  richly  deserved  his  fate, 
for  when  this  den  was  broken  up,  a  month  or  two  subse- 
quent, we  ascertained  that  they  had  sent  off  for  help  and 
guns,  and  stealing  the  boat  was  the  preliminary  movement 
to  an  attempt  to  fire  and  storm  the  cabin  and  murder  us  in 
order  to  get  possession  of  the  boxes  of  specie,  as  they  con- 
sidered those  unlucky  cherry-wood  cases  of  surveying  in- 
struments which  our  Yankee  was  engaged  in  peddling  about 
the  West,  and  which  had  so  aroused  their  cupidity. 

We  got  across  next  morning,  of  course,  for  the  sons  of  my 
friend  having  heard  the  boat  stop  during  the  night,  were  on 
the  alert,  and  taking  my  rifle-shot  for  a  signal,  were  soon 
across  in  a  boat  to  our  rescue. 

We  left  Yankee  blubbering  on  the  bank — for  he  had  now 
slept  off  his  stupefaction — but  as  there  was  a  steamboat  in 
sight,  we  thought  ourselves  justified  in  leaving  him  to  his 
terrors  for  awhile.  He  deserved  the  lesson ;  and  yet,  as  we 
moved  off,  the  meek  Song  Thrush  sang  as  sweet  a  song  from 
out  the  dark  shadows  of  that  old  wood,  as  if  murder  had 
never  prowled  there ! 


CHAPTER    XL 

EAGLES     AND     ART. 

MINNIE'S  LAND,  the  residence  of  the  late  Mr.  Audubon, 
the  illustrious  ornithologist,  was  situated  near  the  high- water 
level  of  the  Hudson,  at  the  foot  of  a  deep  range  of  shelving 
hills,  which  form  the  Manhattan  shore,  and  commence  nearly 
opposite  the  foot  of  the  noted  Palisades. 

Here,  in  the  midst  of  a  grove  of  native  forest  trees,  and  at 
some  fifty  paces  from  the  water's  edge,  stood,  embowered  in 
characteristic  seclusion,  like  the  nest  of  one  of  his  own  fa- 
vorite, solitude-haunting  wild-birds,  the  simple  and  taste- 
ful family  mansion  of  the  great  illustrator  of  the  feathered 
tribes. 

You  entered  this  hospitable  home  by  a  wide  hall,  which, 
opening  upon  a  spacious  portico  fronting  the  river,  divided 
the  lower  apartments  into  two  ranges  of  rooms — those  on 
the  right  hand  consisting  of  atelier,  library,  and  museum  of 
specimens — those  on  the  left  being,  with  a  beautiful  propri- 
ety, dedicated  to  the  rights  of  hospitality — dining-room,  par- 
lors, etc. 

The  main  hall  of  entrance  was  hung  on  both  sides  with 
pictures ;  among  them  all  that  most  attracted  my  attention 
in  frequent  visits,  were  two  large  oil  paintings,  one  an  origi- 
nal Salvator  Kosa — terrible  as  all  that  I  had  ever  dreamed 
of  that  drear  and  mighty  genius  of  desolation.  A  leaden, 
clouded  sky,  hurled  by  the  drifting  storm  against  the  sharp 
peaks  of  pinnacled  cliffs,  seemed  falling,  shattered  in  huge 
eddied  flakes  about  the  head  of  a  poor  wayfarer,  whose  thin 


236  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIRDS. 

cloak  and  long  hair  streaming  beyond,  made  Ms  figure  seem 
the  very  counterpart  of  a  blasted  tree  in  the  foreground,  the 
only  green  limb  upon  which  seemed  to  have  just  been  partly 
torn  from  the  trunk,  and  streamed,  too,  on  the  savage  blast. 

I  shall  never  forget  that  picture  of  desolation ! 

The  other  was  a  noble  picture — pronounced  by  Christo- 
pher North,  the  noblest  of  all  executed  by  Audubon — of  a 
Golden  Eagle,  the  full  size  of  life,  which,  from  a  lofty  crag 
of  the  White  Mountains,  was  in  the  act  of  carrying  off  a 
lamb  upon  which  it  had  just  pounced,  and  which  was  clearly 
a  vagrant  from  the  white  flock  browsing  peacefully  beneath, 
which  could  be  dimly  seen  through  a  break  in  the  whirling 
chaos  of  vapor,  which  nearly  compassed  about  the  sun-lit 
rock,  upon  the  grassy  edges  of  which  it  had  been  tempted  to 
feed. 

With  all  this  simplicity  of  elements,  there  was  something 
indescribably  majestic  in  the  picture.  In  addition  to  the 
general  effect,  there  was  a  degree  of  microscopic  detail  in 
the  finish  of  the  two  figures  of  the  eagle  and  the  lamb,  which 
has  ever  since  left  upon  my  mind  an  impression  as  of  an  ac- 
tual scene. 

Alas !  for  white-wooled  innocence !  it  pleads  in  vain  for 
mercy  with  the  merciless.  The  full-winged  tyrant  is  an 
hungered  and  athirst,  and  hath  no  bowels  of  compassion  now 
that  can  be  moved  by  piteous  bleatings. 

It  is  very  nice,  poor  lamb  I  to  have  a  snowy  fleece,  and 
such  large,  bright,  gentle  eyes,  with  such  a  meek  appeal  in 
them  as  might  soften  a  heart  of  veriest  adamant — very  nice 
indeed !  and  one  would  think  that  of  all  creatures,  it  was 
least  possible  that  thou  couldst  come  to  harm,  even  in  a  sin- 
ful world  like  this  of  ours  ! 

But  sad  enough,  these  have  all  been  in  vain  !  A  single 
crime  has  rendered  the  J&gis  of  purity  powerless  for  thee, 
and  forced  thee  to  realize  that,  indeed, 

"  Some  innocents  'scape  not  the  thunderbolt!"— 


EAGLES  AND  AET.  237 

for  with,  a  roar  of  sudden  wings  and  gleam  of  a  golden  burn- 
ish, came  it  not  down  upon  thee  out  of  the  still  air — 'that 
fearful  retribution — thou  undutiful  truant  ? 

In  the  giddiness  of  thy  wanton  youth,  didst  thou  not  wan- 
der away  from  that  fond  and  anxious  sheep,  which  was  to 
thee  a  mother  ?  Kegardless  of  the  agonized  bleatings  by 
which  she  sought  to  recall  thee  to  her  dugs,  didst  thou  not 
continue  to  climb  the  mountain-side,  and  in  heedless  aggra- 
vation of  her  tearful  woe,  frisk  upon  the  perilous  verge  of 
bleakest  rocks,  where  the  strong  winds  made  the  grass  to  sing 
underneath  thy  hoofs  ? 

In  the  blindness  of  thy  obdurate  pride  of  place,  thou 
couldst  not  see  the  danger ;  but  in  a  fell  swoop  it  is  upon  thee 
now !  Ay,  it  is  too  late  to  shrink !  too  late  to  turn  back  thy 
repentant  heart  to  that  poor  deserted  parent,  whose  prolonged 
and  plaintive  ba-a-a  fills  all  the  valley — too  late  ! 

Ah,  rash  ambition,  it  is  ever  thus  I  Thou  Phaeton,  thou 
Icarus  of  lambkins  !  why  could  not  the  lowly  plain  content 
thee  ?  "  The  aspiration  in  thy  heel "  has  been  sad  for  thee ; 
it  has  but  brought  thee  to  thy  downfall ! 

Poor  lamb  !  there  is  a  vivid  life  here  that  makes  thy  pangs 
seem  real,  and  we  almost  shudder  while  those  terrible  talons 
burn  into  the  tender  flesh ;  and  while  the  aerial  robber  pauses 
with  mighty  wings  outstretched,  we  can  see  the  yellow  shine 
of  ravin  in  its  eye,  glow  as  pitiless  as  if  we  stood  near  the 
fierce  bird  alive,  when  it  had  just  stooped  from  amidst  the 
cloudy  crags  of  the  White  Mountains  upon  some  vagrant 
firstling  of  a  New  Hampshire  farmer's  flock. 

This  is  no  mere  fable,  but  is  a  breathing  and  living  truth 
out  of  the  natural  world ;  at  least  its  life  in  form  and  colors 
is  like  breathing.  It  is  more  than  the  old  fable,  for  our 
modern  JSsop  is  the  artist,  who  tells  his  story  with  the  pen- 
cil and  the  burin  rather  than  the  wagging  tongue. 

If  he  make  bird  and  beast  speak  together,  as  they  used  to 
for  our  childhood  in  that  old  book,  it  is  not  by  the  unnatural 
use  of  human  speech,  but  in  action,  real  presentations  of  their 


238  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIRDS. 

own  physical  expression  !  Thus  we  can  have  not  only  an 
allegory  told,  but  an  historical  truth  as  well,  and  in  a  living 
language. 

"We  can  clearly  remember  how  ludicrous  it  seemed  even 
to  our  unsophisticated  childhood,  that  these  brute  creatures 
should  talk  to  one  another  "  like  people,"  and  yet,  we  were 
intensely  interested  in  what  they  said,  because  the  rude 
wood-cuts  of  our  copy  gave  the  forms  of  each,  and  were 
more  suggestive  sometimes  than  the  fable  itself.  With  our 
faith  thus  helped  along,  we  become  reconciled  to  the  reality, 
but  we  are  sure  it  was  through  the  wood-cuts  more  than  the 
language  of  these  fables  that  they  have  accompanied  us  all 
our  life  since  ;  a  whole  folio  of  practical  ethics  was  imbedded 
into  our  memory  with  each  of  those  crude,  but  graphic  pic- 
tures. 

"We  doubt  very  much,  if  any  child  was  ever  very  greatly 
impressed  by  the  fables  of  -*3Csop,  whose  first  copy  was  with- 
out the  illustrations ! 

How  very  natural,  when  we  remember  that  the  first  lan- 
guage which  greets  the  awakening  sense  of  infancy,  is  that 
of  the  mother  earth — of  form,  color  and  action — and  there- 
fore it  must  continue  to  be  most  significant  to  the  man.  Who 
has  not  marked  the  antics  of  a  baby  over  the  first  picture- 
book  ?  how  he  sprawls  upon  it  in  a  destructive  ecstasy  of 
sputtering  delight  ?  Look,  too,  at  the  first  slate  of  the  un- 
willing school-boy,  covered  with  rude  figures  of  bird  and 
beast  rather  than  with  numerals  or  pot-hooks.  He  is  strug- 
gling for  the  most  direct  mode  of  expression,  just  as  the  sav- 
age or  natural  man  is  doing  through  his  hieroglyphics. 

This  is  not  all,  for  extremes  meet,  and  the  language  of  in- 
fants and  of  angels  is  the  same,  if  we  may  trust  to  certain 
of  the  Old  Fathers  and  the  revelations  of  modern  clairvoy- 
ance. These  unite  in  representing  that  such  spiritual  beings 
have  no  occasion  for  the  use  of  speech  after  the  manner  of 
man,  but  that  they  possess  such  eloquence  of  look  and  form, 
as  to  communicate  through  these  alone  ;  every  motion  being 


EAGLES  AND  ART.  239 

a  sign  of  thought  or  feeling  more  significant  far  than  our  im- 
perfect articulation.  Shakspeare  seems  to  have  the  same 
idea  when  describing  one  of  his  god-like  men  : 

" What  a  mental  power 


This  eye  shoots  forth  !  how  big  imagination 
Moves  this  lip!  to  the  dumbness  of  the  gesture 
One  might  interpret " 

Images  and  metaphors  constantly  recurring  in  the  common 
parlance  of  mankind,  show  how  universally  the  peculiar  sig- 
nificance of  this  dumb  speech  is  recognized.  The  intenser 
expressions  of  passion  and  the  more  awful  presence  of  the 
spiritual  in  man,  cannot  be  translated  by  the  spoken  language, 
but  must  be  conveyed  by  attitudes  and  looks.  This  leads, 
of  a  necessity,  to  picture-writing,  as  the  true  mode  of  per- 
petuating emotion  and  thought— and  painting  is  also  said  to 
be  the  written  language  of  the  angels.  Who  knows  but  that 
painting  or  picture-writing  may  be  the  natural  and  higher 
language  of  a  developed  humanity  ? 

It  looks  very  much  as  if  there  might  be  some  truth  in  such 
a  conjecture,  when  we  consider  what  has  just  been  said, 
in  connexion  with  the  tendency  of  these  times  toward  an 
illustrated  literature.  The  advance  of  this  taste  has  been  so 
gradual,  yet  swift,  that  we  are  scarcely  prepared  to  realize 
its  amazing  extent  at  the  present  hour ;  yet  observe,  almost 
everything  issued  by  the  press  now,  of  whatever  grade,  is  in 
some  style  illustrated. 

Then  what  an  immense  stride  in  the  character  of  illustra- 
tion, which  is  becoming  popularized,  is  exhibited  in  a  con- 
trast of  such  pictures  as  this  of  the  Eose-Breasted  Grosbeak 
— articulate  of  joy  and  song,  which  we  give  as  a  modern 
specimen  of  this  dumb  speech,  in  special,  among  our  others 
— and  the  rude  wood-cuts  of  that  child's  book  of  fables, 
dating  thirty  years  back !  It  may  be  among  the  many  rev- 
olutions in  the  midst  of  which  our  age  moves  on,  that  this, 


240  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIRDS. 

though  not  so  palpable,  is  as  sure  an  indication  as  any  of  the 
motion  being  in  the  right  direction  I 

However  uncivilized  the  expression  of  such  an  opinion 
may  sound — we  love  to  be  heterodox  occasionally ! — it  has 
certainly  seemed  to  us  always  a  very  strained,  round-about 
and  up-hill  sort  of  work,  this  mode  we  mortals  have  of  con- 
veying our  emotions  and  thoughts  through  merely  arbitrary 
signs,  which  stand  for  sounds.  Of  one  thing  we  are  sure, 
and  that  is,  that  it  was  not  thus  our  Mother  Earth  talked  to 
our  infancy,  nor  thus  she  talks  to  us  now,  and  we  have  a  notion 
that  she  is  exceeding  eloquent  in  her  way.  We  address 
each  other  only  through  a  single  sense,  while  she  communes 
with  us  through  them  all,  and  we  could  never  perceive  that 
she  made  herself  any  the  less  perfectly  understood  for  that. 

Be  this  as  it  may,  all  time  has  been  filled  with  the  glory 
of  the  revelations  she  has  made  to  her  children,  and  the  Ar- 
tist is  her  favorite  child !  He  addresses  himself  to  his  broth- 
ers of  mankind  as  nearly  as  he  can,  after  her  manner — not 
alone  through  one  sense,  by  "  directions,"  but  through  all 
"  by  indirections  "  works  he  out  this  charmed  and  magical 
communion — for  does  he  not  through  the  sight  suggest  what- 
ever else  of  feeling,  odor,  taste  and  sound  there  may  be  want- 
ing to  actual  creation. 

Thus,  in  the  suggestiveness  of  his  skill  consists  the  necro- 
mancy of  the  Artist,  who,  if  he  does  not  create  absolutely 
as  God  may,  a  new  life  in  his  work,  creates  at  least  a  new 
sense — a  real  presence — in  the  mind  of  his  brother,  which 
will  always  find  a  natural  language.  Thus  we  hear  this  in- 
ner, Art-born  sense,  when  moved  before  a  picture  of  God- 
like passion  speaking  for  itself  long  ago,  in  an  unconscious 
kind  of  way — 

"  Such  sweet  observance  in  this  work  was  had, 
That  one  might  see  those  far  off  eyes  look  sad." 

And  again  it  prattles,  in  "  mere  simplicity,"  concerning 


EAGLES  AND  ART.  241 

another  something  of  a  different  sort — a  picture  of  the  Old 
Man  Nestor, 

"  In  speech  it  seemed  his  beard  all  silver  white 
Wagged  up  und  down,  and  from  his  lips  did  fly 
Thin  winding  breath,  which  purled  up  to  the  sky." 

Here  is  a  miracle  the  Artist  has  surely  wrought  after  some 
secret  and  strange  manner,  for  we  can  plainly  see  that  a  new 
life  has  come  to  light  through  him,  and  whether  it  be  in  the 
object  he  has  formed,  or  in  the  mind  of  the  observer,  it  is  not 
the  less  to  be  thought  of  with  wondering  question.  Whence 
cometh  this  high  control  within  the  spiritual  world,  that  he 
can  thus  throw  down  the  shadow  of  an  awe  upon  us  from  his 
own  creations  ? 

Nor  do  we  wonder  less  when  the  Artist  has  gone  forth 
into  the  outer  world ;  for  we  have  seen  in  what  an  heroical 
language  he  can  speak  to  us  of  the  physical  life  through  its 
ruder  objects  and  more  humble  forms,  since  to  him  they  are 
all  glorious,  and  by  him  they  are  glorified  to  us !  In  the 
Art-born  sense  they  are  no  longer  humble,  but  for  the  truth 
that  is  in  them,  are  felt  to  be  alive  by  the  warmth  about  the 
heart  which  they  bring  with  them  ;  therefore  they  are  wel- 
comed with  loving  eagerness  as  a  new  birth,  and  for  the  man- 
ner of  their  conception  and  their  coming,  it  needs  not  that 
the  Artist  should  be  questioned. 

Do  not  our  pictures  tell  the  story  for  him  of  themselves  ? 

And  does  not  this  of  the  Golden  Eagle  ?  The  Art-born 
sense  can  see  it  all ;  how,  when  in  its  home  among  the  moun- 
tains he  found  the  Golden  Eagle,  he  watched  it  every  morn- 
ing sail  out  from  the  fastnesses  of  wintry  peaks,  and  on  nice- 
poised  pinions,  wheel  round  and  about  through  the  pink- 
tipped  clouds,  shrieking  now  and  then  a  hungry  cry  that  is 
just  to  be  heard  far  down  in  the  peaceful  valley,  to  startle 
the  white,  browsing  flocks  with  a  sense  of  dread  that  know- 
eth  not  its  object ;  how  he  watched  it  thus  in  every  mood 

16 


242  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIEDS. 

until  lie  made  its  tameless  life  to  be  all  Ms  own,  and  at  last, 
by  this  strange  spell  in  his  eye,  called  down  the  tyrant  in  the 
strength  of  its  "unconquerable  wings,"  and  fixed  it  move- 
less on  the  canvas,  but  alive  in  all  the  joy  of  fierceness  and 
glister  of  its  golden  plumes,  amidst  the  clouds,  the  rocks,  the 
shadows  and  the  sunshine  of  that  native  scene ! 

Ah,  does  it  not  seem  a  weird  gift  the  Artist  has,  this  power 
"to  do  strange  deeds  upon  the  clouds  ?"  this  power  to  bring 
in  to  our  firesides,  as  a  familiar  guest,  the  solemn  presence 
of  a  Primeval  earth,  the  cool  dews  of  her  fresh  strength  yet 
glistening  on  her  green  unshaken  hair,  with  her  wild  crea- 
tures stilled  upon  her  bosom  in  their  passionate  freedom,  like 
silent  images  of  beauty  and  of  action  within  the  brooding 
thought  of  "  Eldest  Saturn  !" 

Does  it  not  seem  very  marvellous  that  these  things  should 
be ;  that  this  humble  Artist,  this  poor  worm  of  the  dust 
should  perform  such  transcendent  deeds  with  his  own  unas- 
sisted hand  ? 

It  must  be  that  he  is  inspired,  that  some  noble  and  holy 
promptings  exalt  him  thus  above  his  fellows ;  for  concerning 
his  relations  to  this  sublunary  planet  and  all  things  therein 
contained,  has  not  the  Artist,  of  necessity,  a  creed  and  faith 
of  his  own  ?  As  it  comes  to  him  spontaneously,  it  has  never 
troubled  him  to  inquire  in  what  manner  the  black  letter  learn- 
ing classifies  this  faith  of  his — whether  as  primitive  or  mod- 
ern, common  or  peculiar — though  it  has  seemed  so  natural 
to  him,  and  suffices  so  entirely  to  his  own  pleasures  and 
peace,  that  he  has,  in  a  manner,  taken  it  for  granted,  as  com- 
mon to  all  men.  His  faith  requires  no  mystical  or  pompous 
name  to  make  its  meaning  more  clear  to  vulgar  apprehen- 
sion, since  it  is  simply  the  faith  of  love  !  universal  love !  For 
as  it  is  defined  in  his  litany, 

" Common  as  light  is  Love, 

And  its  familiar  voice  wearies  not  ever ; 
Like  the  wide  heaven,  the  all-sustaining  air, 
It  makes  the  reptile  equal  to  the  God  I" 


EAGLES  AND  ART.  243 

"With  such  a  heathenish  faith  as  this,  what  wonder  then 
that  his  ideas  of  beauty  should  be  somewhat  heterodox,  and 
that  he  should  even  look  upon  the  rude  and  ancient  counte- 
nance of  Earth  with  favor?  Nay,  since  this  Love  is  a  great 
revelator  and  beautifier  of  all  things,  should  even  regard  it 
as  very  fair,  and  fresh,  and  lovely. 

But  though  marvellous,  it  is  nevertheless  so ;  and  we  judge 
the  truth  to  be,  that  it  is  because  he  is  no  stranger  upon  her 
bosom,  and  is  troubled  with  no  such  exaltation  of  spiritual 
mightiness,  that  he  disdains  the  ground  he  treads  upon.  In 
his  simplicity  he  has  probably  found  out,  while  she  warmed 
him  in  her  nourishing  embrace,  that  he  was  bone  of  her 
bone  and  flesh  of  her  flesh ;  ay,  and  has  even  felt  that  the 
throbbings  of  her  great  heart  were  heaved  with  the  pulses 
of  his  own ! 

What  wonder,  then,  since  he  thus  looks  out  upon  Earth  as 
a  child  of  the  earth,  that 

"  Beated  and  chapped  with  tanned  antiquity," 

as  she  may  seem  to  others,  she  should  yet  appear  fair  and 
young  to  him  ?  What  wonder  that  he  loves  her  too,  and 
smiles  in  unconscious  pity  when  the  Learned  Ninny  talks  in 
pompous  humiliation  of  u  our  humble  origin,"  and  with  face 
averted  from  his  Old  Mother,  rants  spiritual  heroics  at  the 
stars  ? 

What  wonder,  indeed,  if  in  his  innocence  he  should  laugh 
at  the  emasculated  wretch? — As  if  Earth,  too,  were  not  a 
Star,  sister  of  the  Planets,  bride  of  the  Sun,  and  a  daughter 
of  the  Most  High  God ! 

What  wonder,  if  his  jealous  love  should  be  indignant  at 
the  insult,  when  he  sees  that  a  chafiing-dish  would  be  sun 
enough  for  the  world  and  heart  of  the  blue-lipped  haughty 
Pedant,  and  that  yet,  standing  isolated  upon  heaped-up 
tomes — a  world  of  man's  creating — he  dares,  with  out- 
stretched shaky  finger,  like  a  shrunk  and  withered  brat,  to 
be  imperious  with  his  Ancient  Mother — to  summons  her  to 


244  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIRDS. 

yield  her  potent  secrets  up  to  the  compelling  of  his  frosty 
breath  !  But  ha !  ha  !  it  seems  a  melancholy  farce  indeed 
to  the  gentle  Artist;  for  well  he  knows  she  must  have 
warmth  for  warmth,  sympathy  for  sympathy,  and  that  her 
great  heart  bloometh  only  for  her  own ! 

"  Blessed  are  the  meek,  for  they  shall  inherit  the  earth  ;" 
and  she  cometh  near  to  her  Child,  revealing  herself  in  mani- 
fold ways  with  most  miraculous  organ  he  alone  may  under- 
stand. To  the  insolent  Pedant,  her  words  of  mild  and  mighty 
wisdom  must  be  as  an  unknown  tongue,  since  he  has  forgot- 
ten that  earliest  language  in  which  she  spoke  to  the  dawn 
of  sense  in  him.  But  her  own  Child  has  not — he  has  kept 
the  first  meaning  of  the  many  signs  of  the  strange  forms  of 
things,  of  the  many  sounds  of  most  sweet  voices  that  came 
together  when  light  from  her  flowed  into  darkness  unto  him ! 

Still,  when  the  morning  comes,  answers  he  to  her  calling, 
"  Here  am  1 1" — for  still,  awakening  is  like  birth  to  him, 
and  upon  the  renewed  glories  of  her  coming  do  his  eyes  open 
with  the  stare  of  wondering  infancy  just  born ;  still  amidst 
splendor  in  music,  and  with  pomp  does  the  glad  and  sweet 
surprise  of  being  burst  through  oblivion  upon  him  I — for 
Death  and  Sleep  seem  one!  Thus  he  rises  ever  from  her 
bosom  as  the  strong  man  refreshed,  and  the  energies  of  her 
eternal  youth  are  in  the  wisdom  that  she  teaches  him. 

While  he  listens  to  her,  he  never  can  grow  old; — for 
though  he  cannot  stay  the  flight  of  Time,  he  does  not  care 
to,  since  they  become  play-fellows,  and  even  when  amidst 
their  sportings  Time  brushes  the  gloss  from  off  his  golden 
hair  with  frosty  wings,  he  laughs  with  him  ! 

The  gentle,  happy  Artist! — time-frost  cannot  touch  the 
life  within : 


it  is  a  paradise 


Which  everlasting  Spring  has  made  its  own, 

And  while  drear  Winter  fills  the  naked  skies, 

Sweet  streams  of  sunny  thought  and  flowers  fresh  blown 

Are  there ! " 


EAGLES  AND  AKT.  245 

What  then  if  he  be  thus  light  of  heart,  and  should  go  forth 
each  day  rejoicing? — is  not  his  heritage  unutterably  rich 
and  wondrous  fair,  that  he  may  take  delight  therein  ?  And 
what  if  in  the  overflowing  of  his  joy  his  heart  break  forth  in 
singing  by  the  way  ? — it  was  thus  the  Old-Time  Poet — who 
was  the  Child- Artist — did,  and  we  can  yet  hear  the  cheerful 
echoes  of  the  songs  he  sung ! 

Yes,  Poetry  was  the  earliest  expression  of  the  yearnings 
of  Art,  and 

"  Those  brave  sublunary  things  the  first  poets  had," 

were  its  young  dreams,  which  strove  in  them  for  form  and 
for  the  light,  and  found  it  only  in  the  word-painting  of  their 
imperfect  song.  Thus  the  Poet's  speech  is  that  of  the  child- 
hood of  our  race,  while  the  Artist  is  the  Poet  grown,  speak- 
ing like  a  god  the  majestic  language  of  creations !  Thus  the 
Poet  was  the  first  interpreter  of  Earth  to  her  ruder  children  ; 
and  while  he  sang  aloud  to  his  brothers,  you  might  hear  the 
Old  Mother  crooning  a  mysterious  undertone  to  him.  He 
was  the  Prophet-child  of  Art,  and  in  his  unconsciousness, 
standing  beside  that 

" mighty  portal, 

Like  a  volcano's  meteor-breathing  cavern, 

Whence  the  oracular  vapor  is  hurled  up, 

Which  lonely  men  drink  wandering  in  their  youth," 

he  scattered  abroad,  in  the  wild  utterance  of  that  madness, 
its  most  precious  myths  fragmented  among  the  nations.  The 
Artist,  in  his  maturer  strength,  grasped  these  shining  hints, 
that  amidst  the  upheaving  chaos  of  a  Daedal  thought  glit- 
tered like  broken  points,  and  when,  with  mighty  energies, 
he  dragged  them  from  the  thick  darkness  forth,  the  world 
.saw  that  mute  white  shapes  of  a  Titanic  grandeur  towered 
beneath  his  plastic  hand. 

When  thus,  from  the  child-like,  unregarded  mutterings  of 


246  WILD  SCENES -AND  SONG-BIKDS. 

Homeric  Dreams,  Praxitelian  forms  rose  up  with  awful 
frowns,  men  felt  at  last  the  prophecy  that  had  been  in  them. 
So  out  of  the  inspiration  of  the  earliest  Hebrew  Poetry,  the 
solemn  magnificence  of  old  Italian  Art  came  forth,  embody- 
ing its  vaguely  shadowed  visions  in  an  enduring  real ! 

And  thus  in  the  youth  of  mankind  it  has  mostly  been, 
that  the  Poet  has  suggested  while  the  Artist  created.  But 
then  Art  too  was  young — young  in  models  and  in  modes — 
and  the  power  and  freedom  of  the  Artist  trammelled  by  the 
need  of  exhausting  drudgery  through  crude  methods.  Now 
Art  has  all  its  triumphant  past  upon  which  to  build  new  tri- 
umphs, and  now  the  Artist  may  be  free.  Before  he  was  a 
slave,  that  might  not  feel  the  full  exultings  of  a  procreative 
joy — the  bliss  of  the  conception  as  well  as  the  happy  ecstasy 
of  birth — but  now  he  may  ;  now  he  may  be  the  free-limbed, 
joyous  Poet  and  conquering  Artist  all  in  one  ! 

But  above  all  things  else  it  is  as  the  favored  child  of  his 
old  Mother  Earth  that  our  Poet- Artist  can  be  happy  and 
free.  Ay,  and  when  he  is  living  ever  near  to  her,  it  seems 
that  he  is  almost  a  god  I — for  then  there  is  none  of  all  with 
whom  he  is  surrounded  to  be  his  equal  in  the  strength  and 
power  of  wisdom  he  derives  from  her.  She  speaks  to  him 
as  a  familiar  theme,  concerning  those  high  mysteries  of  life 
before  which  the  Magii  trembled. 

She  makes  bare  to  him  herself,  and  shows  him  the  wonder 
and  the  majesty  of  his  own  being  as  it  is  amplified  in  hers. 
How  all  things  own  a  common  nature  ascending  in  grada- 
tions up  to  him — how  he  is  sovereign  unit  and  lives  through 
her  and  she  through  him,  and  how,  on  the  mighty  scroll  of 
her  primeval  story,  his  past  is  spread  before  him,  reveal- 
ing the  process  of  his  own  elaboration  in  God's  creative 
thought. 

Here  he  reads,  how  that  from  huge  shapes  floundering 
blindly  through  the  mud  of  chaos,  just  warmed  by  the  en- 
gendering look  of  God,  he  came  forth  a  vital  embryo,  to 
ascend  through  many  grades  of  form,  each  organized  more 


EAGLES  AND  ART.  247 

nobly  than  the  last,  until  his  own — man  the  consummation, 
had  been  reached ! 

Then  he  sees  how  too  this  consummate  shape,  by  reason 
of  its  perfection,  became  the  habitation  of  an  angel — blos- 
somed into  the  spiritual,  as  the  bud  blossoms  into  splendor 
and  perfume! — for  the  life  which  came  from  God  having 
passed  through  all  the  sensuous  grades  below,  returned  now 
on  the  eternal  circle  towards  its  source,  to  meet  perfection 
in  himself — 

"  Just  on  the  borders  of  the  Spirit-land  !" 

Then  the  full  flower  was  blown,  and  the  divine  aroma  which 
had  been  developed  within  the  secret  foldings  of  the  bud 
filled  all  the  world  ! 

This  Divine  aroma  is  that  Love  of  which  we  spoke,  and 
which  is  all-embracing  in  its  mild  and  fostering  sympathies ; 
for  with  the  angel  thus  born  within  him,  the  exalted  man 
becomes  ruler  over  all  in  right  of  this  spiritual  birth.  And 
not  alone  is  he  thus  lord  over  all  creatures,  but  by  right  of  a 
sensuous  birth  in  common  with  him  they  are  his  lowlier 
brothers. 

In  the  mild  beneficence  of  this  fraternal  Faith,  all  living 
things  are  sacred  to  the  Artist.  In  each  creature  he  sees  not 
alone  a  fixed  memento  left  behind  him  of  one  grade  more  in 
the  ascent  of  his  progression,  but  as  well  an  antitype  of  some 
one  attribute  of  his  own  nature  living  in  its  original  form. 
Thus,  be  blind  and  wilful  as  he  may,  he  cannot  escape  from 
himself — go  utterly  away  from  the  truth  of  the  simple 
virtues ! 

He  is  a  lonely  wayfarer,  and  going  forth  on  an  unending 
pilgrimage  into  the  wild,  and  silent  homes  of  the  wild  bird 
and  beast,  he  can  hear  his  mother  speak  with  him,  for  the 
voices  of  her  creatures  make  her  silence.  Here,  in  the  holy 
calm  of  stillest  contemplation,  she  teaches  him  to  study  his 
own  life  in  each  of  these — as  in  gigantic  extension  of  himself 
to  see  his  passions,  emotions  and  thoughts  creep,  walk,  run 


248  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIRDS. 

and  fly  in  embodied  shapes.  He  sees  that  these  are  not  to 
be  studied  amidst  the  dwarfed  forms  and  abject  vices  of  the 
human  distortion  thronging  in  cities — but  here,  amidst  the 
freshness  of  green  solitudes,  he  can  readily  read  the  simple 
passions  separately  in  the  Lion,  Eagle,  "Wolf,  Vulture,  Hart 
and  Dove — while  their  laws  would  be  studied  through  infi- 
nite complexities  were  they  sought  for  when  the  same  pas- 
sions are  combined  in  the  diseased  social  man. 

It  is  his  mission  to  reform  his  race  by  exalting  it ;  and  to 
do  this,  he  must  create  for  it  the  noblest  models.  The  old 
mother  leads  him  thus  apart,  to  teach  him  that  he  cannot 
paint  these  passions  without  a  knowledge  of  their  original 
laws — until  he  has  traced  them  through  their  simple  forms 
up  to  their  complex  and  blended  expression  in  man. 

Thus  in  crystallization,  she  shows  him  the  primitive  sym- 
metries— the  first  natural  arrangement  of  particles  into  har- 
monious  forms — in  stratification  the  natural  arrangement  of 
these  primitive  forms  in  the  structure  of  Earth,  metals  and 
the  universe,  as  determined  by  the  law  of  forces  or  gravita- 
tion— in  vegetation  the  ancient  story  of  man,  the  passive 
embryo,  in  the  Arboreal  form  which  the  plastic  energy  as- 
sumes first,  and  holds  forever  as  the  order  of  life — in  the 
reptile,  man  slowly  warming  into  vital  activity,  blind  amidst 
the  huge  vegetation  of  a  semifluid  chaos — in  the  fish,  man 
advanced  to  a  purer,  but  still  gross  element,  obeying  the 
electric  impulse  of  the  vital  fluid  in  straight  lines — in  the 
insect,  the  state  and  struggle  of  transitions — in  the  animal, 
perfection  of  physical  organization  with  the  circulating  fluid 
reddened  by  the  intensity  of  vital  or  generative  heat — man, 
the  earth-crawler,  and  the  brute ! — in  the  bird,  this  earth- 
crawling  animal  on  wings—  a  spurner  of  limits,  a  dweller  of 
the  pure  ether,  soaring  towards  the  stars,  and  propelled  in 
curved  lines,  to  typify  the  ascent  on  the  Eternal  Circle,  to- 
wards the  Life  of  God,  which  the  man  has  now  made  in  his 
new  birth  of  wings  1 

Thus  she  teaches  him  that  it  is  not  as  organization  resem- 


EAGLES  AND  AKT.  249 

bles  his  own,  that  the  creature  in  reality  becomes  most  near 
to  him — but  as  it  typifies  some  higher  attribute  of  his  com- 
pounded being !  Thus  he  sees  that  the  monkey  is  not  really 
so  near  to  him  as  the  elephant,  the  lion  or  the  Eagle — while, 
if  he  were  only  an  organized  unit,  as  a  crude  philosophy  de- 
fines him,  this  monkey  would  be  nearest.  Mere  organiza- 
tion cannot  define  relations  to  a  triune  being,  such  as  his — 
though  it  might  to  the  physical  unit. 

But  he  is  more  fearfully  and  wonderfully  made — this  ma- 
terial form,  first  vitalized  by  a  plastic  spirit  in  common  with 
the  earth  and  all  her  creatures,  holds  within  that  spirit,  as  air 
is  held  in  water,  a  soul,  in  common  with  angelic  being,  which 
illuminates  and  warms  with  love  and  wisdom  the  grosser  ele- 
ment. Thus  his  mother  shows  him  that  the  apparent  ap- 
proximation is  not  the  real — while  the  Pedant,  reasoning 
through  books  concerning  her  "  vestiges,"  finds  only  the  ap- 
parent, and  stops  there ! 

The  Artist  can  be  deceived  by  no  vain  juggle  of  the  words 
of  a  dead  human  learning;  the  truth  that  has  made  him 
strong  is  a  vital  truth,  and  its  words  are  alive.  They  teach 
him  to  see  in  the  lion  a  distinct  antitype  of  magnanimous 
courage,  and  in  the  type,  the  heroic  man,  he  traces  the  real 
approximation  through  physiognomy,  in  a  resemblance  ap- 
parent, not  alone  in  the  features  of  the  face,  but  in  the  huge 
chest,  the  heavy  limbs,  the  gentleness  of  bearing  in  repose, 
and  terrible  fierceness  when  aroused. 

The  elephant  he  sees  to  be  the  antitype  of  judgment  and 
sagacity,  and  in  the  type,  the  philosopher  and  sage,  he  traces 
the  reposeful  heaviness  of  feature  and  limbs,  the  simplicity 
and  harmlessness  of  temper,  the  calm,  bright  eye  and  move- 
less will,  which  belong  to  that  creature.  The  monkey  he 
sees  to  be  only  the  antitype  of  that  most  humble  faculty,  im- 
itation ;  and  in  the  type,  the  clown  or  idiot,  he  sees  all  the 
monkey  in  meanness  of  feature  and  of  nature!  The  Artist 
smiles  to  think  that  this  creature  can  yet  be  nearer  to  the  an- 


250  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIRDS. 

gelic  man,  than  is  the  Eagle  which  stands  his  supremest  an- 
titype. 

In  a  word,  the  Artist  sees  in  this  Eagle,  not  a  long- winged 
fowl,  but  the  expression  of  what  is  most  glorious  in  the  ac- 
tion of  the  physical — the  living,  swift  embodiment  of  all 
sublimest  energies  in  his  own  soul,  taunting  its  inaction  forth 
to  know  the  joy  of  rushing  wings  in  fields  of  boundless  air. 

Looking  on  its  "  powerful  grace,"  a  proud  emulation  stirs 
his  life  of  lives,  he  feels  "the  aspiration  in  him  breeding 
wings,"  and  with  the  tense  vision  of  a  will  aroused,  he'll  now 
"out-stare  the  lightning!"  Deeds  of  Epic  grandeur  swell 
within  his  clear,  keen  thought,  and  action  follows  as  quick, 
in  merciless  promptitude,  as  the  fell  swoop  of  the  bird !  He 
becomes  inspired  into  the  Eagle-man ;  and  if  he  do  not  con- 
quer nations,  the  bloodless  triumphs  that  he  wins  to  Art  are 
far  more  glorious.  His  piercing  vision  glancing  down  the 
past,  everywhere  recognizes  in  its  heroes  Eagle-men.  With 
alert  heads,  the  vaulting  beak-like  nose,  and  round,  stern  eye, 
the  mightiest  of  the  world's  masters  even  in  the  sculptured 
marble,  seem  as  if  upon  the  stoop  to  soar  again  among  the 
clouds  with  conquering  cries. 

Well  may  the  Artist  shout  "  Eureka  "  now,  for  the  vital 
clue  of  art  has  been  revealed  to  him.  He  has  found  that  he 
can  follow  the  antitype  up  from  the  animal  to  its  type  in  man, 
and  trace  it  in  him  with  assurance,  through  certain  absolute 
features  of  physical  resemblance. 

Thus,  in  the  vaulted  nose  he  sees  the  Eagle,  but  soon  discov- 
ers that  all  birds  or  men  with  vaulted  beaks  are  not  Eagles ; 
that  some  are  silly  parrots,  and  others  filthy  carrion-loving 
vultures !  That  one  short  step  between  the  sublime  and  the 
ridiculous  is  illustrated  to  him  here,  in  the  ease  with  which 
a  facial  line  peculiar  to  the  greatest  of  men  may  be  con- 
founded with  that  belonging  to  the  meanest. 

The  Parrot-man  is  often  mistaken  for  the  Eagle-man ;  but 
the  Artist  observes,  that  in  the  face  of  the  driveller  the  line 
of  the  nose  vaults  abruptly  like  the  beak  of  £he  parrot,  while 


EAGLES  AND  AKT.  251 

the  mouth  and  chin  retreat  feebly  beneath  the  nut-cracking 
hook,  giving  all  the  appearance  of  strength  in  the  face  to  the 
upper  mandible,  as  if  it  were  intended  for  the  fool  to  hang 
himself  up  to  roost  by,  after  the  manner  of  the  bird. 

The  vault  of  the  Eagle's  beak,  on  the  contrary,  is  very 
gradual,  while  the  lower  mandible,  which  expresses  will  and 
energy,  is  extended  out  nearer  to  a  line  with  the  top  of  the 
head.  Close  beneath  this  line  and  to  the  base  of  the  nos- 
trils, the  eyes  are  placed,  giving  at  once  an  expression  of 
fierce  alertness,  very  different  from  those  of  the  parrot's, 
which  are  set  near  the  middle  of  the  head. 

Tracing  this  facial  line  down  from  the  conqueror  through 
all  the  grades  of  men,  he  finds  it  everywhere  associated  with 
aspiration  and  daring  temper — with  the  impulses  of  the  hero, 
if  not  with  heroic  deeds !  Though  the  headstrong  fool  with 
his  parrot-bill,  approaches  this  line  closely  on  one  side,  and 
the  vulture-beaked  Jew  hungering  for  offal  on  the  other,  yet 
the  careful  Artist  is  not  confused  thereby.  He  sees  that  in 
the  pawn-broker  and  old-clothes  man,  the  line  is  that  of  the 
vulture — depressed  near  the  "  downward  eye,"  and  vaulting 
nearer  the  end  which  lingers  prolonged  into  a  hungry  curve 
that  seems  formed  to  tear  a  way  into  the  vitals. 

HOAV  loathsome  the  vulture-man,  as  the  Artist  sees  him — 
with  his  wrinkled,  scaly,  scavenger  look — true  to  the  anti- 
type, in  base  brow  and  beak,  cunning  eye,  and  even  to  the 
thin  and  recurved  bristles  on  the  back  of  the  skinny  neck 
and  head ! 

The  straight,  Grecian  profile  expresses  to  him  a  perfect 
harmony  of  the  moral,  or  spiritual  and  physical  lives  in  the 
human.  A  slight  deviation  from  this  line  expresses  there- 
fore a  vast  deal.  Whenever  this  vaults  into  the  arch,  it  in- 
fallibly expresses  energy,  unreasoning  or  viciously  aggressive, 
just  in  proportion  as  the  arch  departs  violently  on  either 
side  from  this  symmetrical  line. 

Thus  the  parrot's  vaulting  out  beyond  this  line  quickly, 
expresses  idiotic  obstinacy  and  indomitable  propensities  for 


252  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIRDS. 

mischief — while  the  vulture's,  which  is  first  recurved  below 
and  then  in  the  vault  only  about  comes  up  to  that  line,  ex- 
presses subversive  viciousness  in  the  alarming  ravin  for  gold 
exhibited  by  the  Vulture-man.  On  the  other  hand,  he  sees 
that  as  this  line  is  only  faintly  broken  at  the  brow,  and 
arched  in  the  centre  of  the  nose,  as  in  the  profile  of  the  Eagle's 
head  and  beak,  it  expresses  that  highest  combination  of  the 
intellectual  and  physical  daring  which  we  find  in  the  mighty 
Conquerors — as  in  the  head  of  Napoleon. 

While  in  the  head  of — it  may  be — a  marshal,  who  was 
comparatively  the  mere  executive  soldier — the  man  of  head- 
long action — we  have  the  arch  more  decided — retaining  all 
the  dignity  of  the  Eagle,  but  with  something  of  the  vulture's 
bloody  thirst,  indicated  in  the  prolongation  of  the  vault. 

Thus  he  sees  that  while  the  vaulting  line  indicates  vault- 
ing energies,  the  purpose  and  direction  of  these  energies  is 
either  ignoble,  about  in  proportion  as  the  line  approximates 
that  of  the  baser  birds,  or  fierce  as  it  approaches  that  of  the 
Eagle. 

The  rise  of  the  arch  in  the  Eagle's  beak  is  very  slight  for 
some  distance  from  the  base,  like  that  of  Napoleon's  nose — 
then  the  hook  is  remarkably  sudden,  almost  square.  As  it 
is  simply  in  the  higher  lines  of  profile — those  indicating  its 
approach  to  a  square — that  these  resemblances  can  be  indi- 
cated— that  between  Napoleon  and  the  Eagle  ceases  at  the 
plane  of  the  nose,  to  re-commence  in  the  mouth,  which  is 
brought  out  with  a  corresponding  expression  of  strength  in 
the  chin,  almost  square  to  the  line  of  the  brow  and  nose. 
Thus  we  have  the  tower-like  weight  of  brain  lifted  above  the 
granite-seamed  mouth,  and  moveless  base  of  will  in  the  pow- 
erful lower  jaw. 

The  marshal  is  the  man  to  swoop  in  relentless  fierceness 
down  upon  the  prey  the  Eagle  wing  and  eye  has  found  ;  there- 
fore the  Eagle  and  the  Vulture  are  combined  in  his  profile. 
The  Imperial  Conqueror  knew  this  well — and  for  this  reason 
he  was  accustomed  to  say  that  for  men  of  vast  energies  in 


EAGLES  AND  AET.  253 

action,  he  rather  choose  those  with  Koman  noses  and  large  nos- 
trils. This  form  of  speech — Eoman  noses — comes  of  course 
from  the  historical  identity  of  the  arched  nose  of  the  Ko- 
mans  "with  their  daring  and  iron  firmness  of  will. 

Thus  the  Artist  has  found  that  conquerors,  warriors,  re- 
formers, discoverers  carry  the  sign  of  the  Eagle  in  their  pro- 
files, indicating  the  aggressive  and  victorious  impulses  they 
display — while  in  contrast  he  perceives  that  the  more  passive 
natures — those  which  are  strong  to  endure,  which  are  the 
prudent,  the  sagacious  and  the  contemplative — do  not  carry 
this  vaulting  sign.  These  take  the  signs  they  bear  rather 
from  the  depressed  lines  of  the  lion  and  the  elephant  Such 
is  peculiarly  the  face  of  the  Scotch  people,  who  are  fa- 
mous the  world  over  for  courage,  prudence  and  sagacity. 
Thus  while  the  arched  line  in  the  Eagle-face  expresses  ag- 
gressive daring  and  sublimity  of  purpose,  the  depressed  line 
in  the  lion-face,  expresses  courage,  caution  and  endurance. 

The  Artist  in  conceiving  the  face  of  a  daring  but  savage 
conqueror,  like  Attila,  Charles  the  Bold,  or  Charles  XII. — 
of  a  bitter  and  stern  fanatic,  like  the  reformer  Knox,  must 
think 


•of  Eagles  on  their  rocks 


With  straining  feet  and  that  fierce  mouth  and  drear, 
Answering  the  strain  with  downward  drag  austere  ;" 

for  to  him  such  an  association  is  irresistible,  and  by  its  aid  he 
is  enabled  readily  to  embody  a  just  conception  of  either.  If, 
on  the  other  hand,  he  would  sculpture  the  head  of  the  pa- 
tient and  courageous  sage,  as  that  of  Socrates — one 

u  Who  ponders  high  and  deep,  and  in  whose  face 
We  see  astonied,  that  severe  content 
Which  comes  of  thought  and  musing," 

he  recurs  back  unconsciously  to  the  face  of  the  lion  for  sug- 
gestion of  outline,  while  the  expression  is  modified  by  certain 
characteristics  suggested  from  that  of  the  elephant. 


254  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIKDS. 

But  the  Eagle  has  many  other  expressions  beside  this 
"  downward  drag  austere,"  and  therefore  is  it  necessary  for 
the  Artist  to  study  all  its  modes  and  habits,  since  it  is  through 
such  perfect  familiarity  he  can  best  understand  the  Eagle- 
man,  and  of  course  express  him  creatively.  The  Old  Mother 
makes  him  see  that  these  resemblances  between  the  higher 
man  and  his  antitype,  are  far  from  being  limited  to  such  mere 
physical  coincidences — that  there  are  a  thousand  other  traits 
of  nature  and  of  habit,  which  bring  the  bird  nearer  to  the 
spiritual.  Thus  it  has  wings,  and  like  the  imagination 
triumphs  over  time  and  space. 

Then  if  the  joy  of  elements,  of  wings,  of  sunshine,  of  waters 
and  of  singing,  be  characteristic  of  all  other  birds,  how  much 
more  are  they  so  of  Eagles,  except  the  singing  and  the  swim- 
ming :  for  verily  the  harsh  clarion  of  the  Eagle's  scream  can- 
not be  called  dulcet  singing ;  and  the  supreme  bird  of  the 
empyrean  holds  in  such  aristocratic  scorn  the  baser  element, 
that  he  never  condescends  to  be  aware  of  its  existence,  ex- 
cept in  an  occasional  foraging  descent  into  its  surface,  from 
which  he  struggles  up  as  if  from  contagion,  upon  hurrying 
wings,  which  spurn  its  drops  from  off  their  glistening  fibres. 

Ah !  if  the  air-king  had  but  "  the  gift  of  the  "  harmonious 
"  gab,"  how  on  his  strong  wings  he  might  out-soar  the  lark, 
and  hold  entrancing  converse  with  the  morning  stars — then, 
indeed,  earth  and  the  univere  would  "  sing  together,"  even 
to  our  "  gross  unpurged  sense !"  But  withal,  such  a  wish  is 
somewhat  sentimental,  for  the  bird  of  battle  and  of  storms 
would  be  rather  a  curious  looking  customer  perched  in  "  la- 
dies' bower,"  to  carry  chorus,  warbling  sweet  ditties  with  the 
"  love-lorn  nightingale  " — Cupid,  asleep  with  his  cheek  upon 
the  roses,  would  be  very  apt  to  dream  i'  faith  that  his  "  loved 
philomel "  had  caught  a  dreadful  cold.  Though  this  idea  of 
a  singing  Eagle  is  not  so  far  from  probability  as  might  be — 
by  considerable.  There  is  a  singing  Falcon,  which  is  well 
known  to  naturalists — the  habitat  of  which  is  in  the  more 
elevated  districts  of  the  coast-borders  of  Africa.  This  curious 


EAGLES  AND  ART.  255 

bird  when  in  perfect  repose  emits  a  series  of  sounds  resem- 
bling considerably  those  produced  by  musical  glasses  under 
the  finger — it  is  strange  to  find  this  trait  in  the  harsh  family  of 
Eaptorese — but  it  is  not  the  less  consistent  with  the  unity  in 
apparent  discord  prevailing  throughout  Nature.  These  savage 
despots  of  the  air  have  all  a  harmony  of  their  own ! 

Aye,  in  his  solitary  wandering  the  Artist  makes  the  discov- 
ery, that  in  the  fitness  of  things  the  Eagle  even  may  be  consid- 
ered a  musical  bird.  His  estimate  of  harmonious  sounds  is 
comparative  by  necessity.  When  standing  beside  Niagara, 
or  when  amidst  savage  mountains  he  scales  the  slippery 
rocks  that  tremble  to  the  sullen  thunder-bass  of  cataracts, 
leaping  down  dark-mouthed,  j agged- gorges  ;  then  if  he  hear 
the  Eagle  shout  its  shrill  war-cry  from  out  the  spray-mist, 
doth  his  heart  leap  up  within  him,  for  here  those  dissonant 
notes  best  harmonize  the  dissonance ! 

Here,  too,  one  glimpse  of  its  warrior  form  as  it  comes  forth 
suddenly  to  view  on  steadied  wings,  cutting  the  span  of  the 
perpetual  iris  in  one  imperial  gleaming  sweep  of  arrowy 
flight,  the  Artist  sees  to  be  worth  a  life  full  of  common 
sights ! — that  the  Old  Mother  has  no  grand  show  beyond  this 
one !  The  creature  seems  the  embodied  spirit  of  the  place 
— a  winged  desolation,  born  amidst  the  angry  roar  of  mighty 
forces,  to  spring  forth  glorious  in  fierce  beauty  from  the  mists 
of  their  collision. 

Of  the  stern  wildness  of  all  pathless  solitudes  the  Eagle  is 
a  part,  and  the  Artist  knows  that  in  painting  such  scenes  his 
highest  and  noblest  effects  are  produced  by  its  presence. 
Hence,  apart  from  the  necessity  he  has  found  for  studying  it 
as  the  antitype  of  grandeur  in  humanity,  he  must  do  so  as 
the  most  perfect  consummation  of  the  wild  sublime  in  land- 
scape— in  the  moods,  humors  and  conditions  presented  by 
his  mother. 

Now,  therefore,  has  he  at  length  learned  of  her  to  look 
upon  the  Eagle,  not  as  the  mere  object  of  a  technical  curi- 
osity, as  an  ornithological  specimen,  to  be  measured,  skinned, 


256  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIRDS. 

stuffed  and  classified,  but  dead  or  alive,  as  the  subject  of  pro- 
foundest  and  unwearying  study,  illustrating  the  most  majestic 
themes  and  capabilities  of  Art. 

Of  necessity  he  is  a  naturalist  likewise,  and  whether  he  be 
a  technical  commentator,  he  has  been  an  accurate  observer ; 
for  nothing  is  too  minute  to  escape  the  microscopic  vision  of 
the  true  Artist. 

To  him  each  feather  has  both  its  separate  form  and  its  blend- 
ed expression ;  each  claw,  beak,  hair  and  scale,  its  own  iden- 
tity !  The  distinctions  of  sex  and  age  he  recognizes  by  a 
glance  at  plumage  and  size.  Every  note,  posture  and  action, 
conveys  to  him  a  meaning — is  significant  of  passion  or  pur- 
pose. All  that  can  be  known  of  habits  and  haunts,  he  makes 
familiar  to  himself  in  his  lonely  explorations 

Thus  it  is  when  he  comes  to  paint  these  creatures,  that  he 
is  enabled  to  make  his  pictures  historical — to  illuminate  his 
figures  with  the  heated  light  of  life — to  give  its  sparkle  to 
their  joy,  its  glow  to  their  repose,  and  darkened  glare  to  their 
anger.  The  same  fine  intuitions  of  "effect"  which  guide 
him  in  grouping  demi-god  and  hero,  are  exercised  upon  these 
pictures — with  the  same  unerring  tact  he  selects  time,  occa- 
sion, place,  that  the  passion,  incident  and  scene  most  charac- 
teristic may  be  exhibited  at  a  glance — telling  the  story  in 
full.  The  accessories  of  landscape  are  taken  from  its  known 
and  favorite  haunts,  including  the  grasses,  shrubs  or  trees  it 
most  affects,  for  food  or  nidification — the  incident — perhaps 
battle  with  a  natural  enemy,  or  seizure  of  its  prey — is  just 
that  which  displays  its  finest  traits  of  action,  and  in  which 
varied  views  of  form  and  plumage  can  be  afforded — while 
the  distinctions  of  size  and  markings  which  grow  out  of  sex 
and  age,  are  furnished  in  the  grouping. 

The  magical  work  is  done !  The  unregarded  denizens  of 
unhoused  wilds  are  seen  all  at  once  to  be  sharers  with  proud 
humanity  of  its  passions,  sentiments  and  even  humors,  and 
to  express  these  in  action  far  more  free  and  noble  for  its  sim- 
plicity !  Then  man  is  not  alone  upon  the  earth  to  think,  to 


EAGLES  AND  AET.  257 

suffer,  to  rejoice,  to  love,  to  hate,  to  murder ! — the  wise  Artist 
has  taught  him  in  his  marvellous  pictures  that  these  humble 
creatures  he  has  despised,  do  all  such  fantastic  tricks  likewise 
" before  high  heaven,"  quite  as  earnestly  as  he,  and  much 
more  gracefully. 

It  is  thus,  then,  by  a  loving  apotheosis,  that  all  things  are 
dignified  in  the  recognition  of  the  true  Art  which  places  in 
a  like,  but  graduated  category  of  respect, 

" creeping  forms  and  insects  rainbow-winged 

And  birds  and  beasts  and  fish  and  human  shapes." 

It  is  thus,  then,  that  the  Artist  wins  his  power  and  right 
from  the  Old  Mother  "to  do  strange  deeds;" — it  is  through 
such  processes  that  the  strength  and  wisdom  of  the  creative 
energy  in  him  has  been  elaborated.  Now,  in  truth,  the  fru- 
ition of  his  probation  has  arrived ! — 

"And  what  if  Art,  an  ardent  intercessor, 
Diving  on  fiery  wings  to  Nature's  throne 
Checks  the  Great  Mother  stooping  to  caress  her, 
And  cries,  give  me  thy  Child  Dominion?" — 

in  him,  dominion  she  will  have,  for  we  have  seen  how  he  has 
won  it  well ! 

In  his  wide  and  solitary  wanderings,  our  Art-Naturalist 
has  made  companionship  with  the  most  tameless  creatures. 
He  knows  through  many  affectionate  remembrances  on  his 
own  part  of  varying  pleasures  they  have  afforded  him  here 
and  there,  in  his  pilgrimage,  not  alone  each  family,  but  as 
well  every  member  thereof. 

Thus  he  knows  the  Golden  Eagle  too  well  not  to  recognize 
its  young  one  too,  and  because  it  is  called  "  the  ring-tailed 
Eagle  of  Authors,"  that  does  not  make  it  with  and  to  him  a 
new  species.  He  has  watched  the  dingy  and  awkward  Ea- 
glet up  through  all  its  blundering  defects,  until  he  saw  it  on 
the  fourth  year,  right  gloriously  arrayed,  go  forth  on  shining 

17 


258  WILD   SCENES   AND   SONG  BIRDS. 

wings  to  conquest.  He  has  found,  too,  that  in  choice  of  lo- 
calities, its  individualities  are  strongly  expressed. 

Its  home  is  among  the  mountains,  and  it  loveth  most  "the 
shadow  of  a  great  rock ;"  not  in  the  United  States  only,  but 
over  nearly  the  whole  world  its  occasional  presence  makes  a 
feature  of  the  most  savage  desolations.  It  builds  its  great 
nest  of  heaped-up  boughs  and  brambles  high  upon  the  inac- 
cessible crag-side,  overlooking  some  wide  valley,  and  perched 
upon  the  pinnacle-rocks  above,  its  wonderful  eye  glancing 
over  all  beneath  detects  its  prey  at  immense  distances.  This 
keenness  of  vision  compensates  beautifully  for  the  want  of 
sufficient  power  of  flight  to  enable  it,  like  the  White-headed 
Eagles,  or  even  falcons,  to  overtake  its  prey  on  the  wing  by 
sheer  speed.  It  takes  advantage  of  the  momentum  gained 
by  a  descent  through  the  air. 

Selecting  habitually  a  lofty  perch,  or  sailing  slowly  at  a 
great  height  among  the  clouds,  this  power  of  sight  reveals  to 
it  even  the  small  objects  below.  When  the  lamb,  the  fawn, 
the  hare,  or  wild  turkey  appears,  one  of  these,  it  pauses  in 
its  flight,  immediately  over  for  an  instant,  seemingly  to 
steady  its  unerring  aim,  and  then  with  wings  half  closed  and 
outspread  tail,  falls  with  the  swiftness  of  a  meteor  upon  the 
victim. 

Now  let  us  see  in  direct  contrast  with  much  of  this,  the 
habits  of  the  White-headed  Eagle,  which  the  naturalist  has 
found  to  be  a  low-land  bird,  in  choice  of  localities,  though 
the  loftiest-flighted  hunter  that  wears  wings.  It  loves  rather 
the  valleys  along  the  courses  of  our  great  rivers,  the  shores 
of  lakes,  estuaries  and  the  sea.  Its  nest  is  on  some  lofty  tree, 
instead  of  a  mountain  crag.  It  pursues  its  prey  up  and 
through  the  air  instead  of  descending  upon  it.  In  the  daring 
confidence  of  its  unequalled  flight,  it  asserts  sole  empire  in 
that  element,  overtaking  all  or  any  of  its  denizens  with  ease. 

A  characteristic  scene  is  thus  described  in  the  Biography 
of  Birds.  Audubon,  the  Art-Naturalist,  says:  "Permit  me 
to  place  you  on  the  Mississippi,  on  which  you  may  float 


EAGLES  AND  AST.  259 

gently  along,  while  approaching  winter  brings  millions  of 
water-fowl  on  whistling  wings,  from  the  countries  of  the 
north,  to  seek  a  milder  climate  in  which  to  sojourn  for  a  sea- 
son. The  Eagle  is  seen  perched  in  an  erect  attitude,  on  the 
highest  summit  of  the  tallest  tree,  by  the  margin  of  the  broad 
stream.  His  glistening  but  stern  eye  looks  over  the  vast  ex- 
panse. He  listens  attentively  to  every  sound  that  comes  to  his 
quick  ear  from  afar,  glancing  now  and  then  on  the  earth  be- 
neath, lest  even  the  light  tread  of  the  fawn  may  pass  unheard. 
His  mate  is  perched  on  the  opposite  side,  and  should  all  be 
tranquil  and  silent,  warns  him  by  a  cry  to  continue  patient. 
At  this  well-known  call,  the  male  partly  opens  his  broad 
wings,  inclines  his  body  a  little  downwards,  and  answers  to 
her  voice  in  tones  not  unlike  the  laugh  of  a  maniac.  The 
next  moment  he  resumes  his  erect  attitude,  and  again  all 
around  is  silent.  Ducks  of  many  species,  the  teal,  the  widgeon, 
the  mallard  and  others,  are  seen  passing  with  great  rapidity, 
and  following  the  course  of  the  current ;  but  the  Eagle  heeds 
them  not :  they  are  at  that  time  beneath  his  attention.  The 
next  moment,  however,  the  wild,  trumpet-like  sound  of  a 
yet  distant  but  approaching  swan  is  heard.  A  shriek  from 
the  female  Eagle  comes  across  the  stream — for,  kind  reader, 
she  is  fully  as  alert  as  her  mate.  The  latter  suddenly  shakes 
the  whole  of  his  body,  and  with  a  few  touches  of  his  bill, 
aided  by  the  action  of  his  cuticular  muscles,  arranges  his 
plumage  in  an  instant.  The  snow-white  bird  is  now  in  sight : 
her  long  neck  is  stretched  forward,  her  eye  is  on  the  watch, 
vigilant  as  that  of  her  enemy ;  her  large  wings  seem  with 
difficulty  to  support  the  weight  of  her  body,  although  they 
flap  incessantly.  So  irksome  do  her  exertions  seem,  that  her 
very  legs  are  spread  beneath  her  tail,  to  aid  her  in  her  flight. 
She  approaches,  however.  The  Eagle  has  marked  her  for 
his  prey.  As  the  swan  is  passing  the  dreaded  pair,  starts 
from  his  perch,  in  full  preparation  for  the  chase,  the  male 
bird,  with  an  awful  scream,  that  to  the  swan's  ear  brings  more 
terror  than  the  report  of  the  large  duck-gun. 


260  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIRDS. 

"  Now  is  the  moment  to  witness  the  display  of  the  Eagle's 
powers.  He  glides  through  the  air  like  a  falling  star,  and, 
like  a  flash  of  lightning,  comes  upon  the  timorous  quarry, 
which  now,  in  agony  and  despair,  seeks,  by  various  manoeu- 
vres to  elude  the  grasp  of  his  cruel  talons.  It  mounts,  doubles, 
and  willingly  would  plunge  into  the  stream,  were  it  not  pre- 
vented by  the  Eagle,  which,  long  possessed  of  the  knowledge 
that  by  such  a  stratagem  the  swan  might  escape  him,  forces 
it  to  remain  in  the  air  by  attempting  to  strike  it  with  his  tal- 
ons from  beneath.  The  hope'  of  escape  is  soon  given  up  by 
the  swan.  It  has  already  become  much  weakened,  and  its 
strength  fails  at  the  sight  of  the  courage  and  swiftness  of  its 
antagonist.  Its  last  gasp  is  about  to  escape,  when  the  fero- 
cious Eagle  strikes  with  his  talons  the  under  side  of  its  wing, 
and  with  unresisted  power  forces  the  bird  to  fall  in  a  slanting 
direction  upon  the  nearest  shore." 

The  female  that  has  watched  from  her  perch  all  the  vicis- 
situdes of  this  fierce,  swift  struggle  with  a  full  assurance  of 
the  result,  now  sails  at  her  ease  to  join  the  conqueror  in  a 
bloody  feast.  Every  one  will  remember,  too,  Wilson's  fine 
description  of  the  manner  in  which  this  selfish  but  dashing 
oppressor  robs  the  fish-hawk  of  its  hard-earned  spoils. 

The  Golden  Eagle  is  more  common  in  the  mountainous 
districts  of  Europe  and  Great  Britain  than  anywhere  in  the 
New  "World ;  while  the  White-headed  Eagle,  which  is  un- 
known abroad,  may  be  said  to  be  peculiar  to  this  continent. 
The  Golden  Eagle  is  the  bird  of  poetry,  since  it  is  from  its 
sublime  haunts  and  majestic  bearing  that  the  numberless  im- 
ages and  associations  are  derived  in  which  the  whole  family 
have  been  idealized  through  the  literature  of  the  old  coun- 
tries. 

It  is  peculiarly  from  its  habits  of  lofty  flight,  and  perching 
among  the  cloud-piercing  pinnacles  of  mountain-chains,  where 
the  fiercest  tempests  rage,  amidst  the  drifted  whirling  glooms 
of  snow  and  sleet,  that  Eagles  have  become  in  poetry  the 
symbol  of  that  tumultuous  energy  and  storm-guiding  prowess 


EAGLES  AND  AET.  261 

which  characterize  the  Eagle-man.  The  sometime-fate  of 
such  a  being — a  Jupiter  dethroned,  or  a  Napoleon  defeated 
— is  therefore,  most  aptly  imaged : — 

"  An  Eagle  so  caught  in  some  bursting  cloud 
On  Caucasus,  his  thunder-baffled  wings 
Extended  in  the  whirlwind,  and  his  eyes 
Which  gazed  on  the  undazzling  sun,  now  blinded 
By  the  white  lightning,  while  the  ponderous  hail 
Beats  on,  his  struggling,  which  sinks  at  length, 
Prone,  and  the  aerial  ice  clings  o\7er  it!" 

We  can  see,  too,  that  its  stately  port  makes  it  the  fit  em- 
blem of  a  feudal  pride  and  isolation,  which,  like  the  bird, 
perched  its  huge  eyries  in  castellated  grandeur  on  the  cliff- 
tops.  There  are  full  as  many  stories  of  wild  and  perilous 
daring  growing  out  of  the  attempts  to  reach  and  rob  the 
strong  home  of  the  bird,  as  of  the  baron.  They  were  both 
themselves  robbers,  who  scorned  the  lowlands  which  lay  be- 
neath their  searching  gaze,  and  as  often  swooped  down  upon 
them  in  sudden  foray.  They  have  loved  the  bird  rather  from 
a  feeling  of  the  affinities  between  them,  and  have  adopted  it 
always  as  the  emblem  of  rapacity  and  conquest,  not  of  free- 
dom. 

It  was  for  this  reason  Shelley  hated  the  bird.  He  saw  in 
it  the  analogue  of  evil  triumphing  over  good,  which  crawls 
among  the  nations,  changed  by  its  immortal  foe 


From  starry  shape  beauteous  and  mild, 


To  a  dire  snake  with  man  and  beast  unreconciled!" 

But  the  contest  between  the  two  powers — "  Twin  Genii," — is 
renewed  again  after  each  defeat,  and  thus  it  is  that 

"  When  the  last  hope  of  trampled  France  had  failed," 

this  prophet  child  of  Art  painted  one  of  the  most  magnifi- 
cent pictures  ever  done  on  air  in  words,  when  he  saw 

"  An  Eagle  and  a  Serpent  wreathed  in  fight." 


262  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIRDS. 

Here  we  have  the  Golden  Eagle  of  course,  for  "  golden 
feather  "  tells  an  unmistakable  story  of  its  own.  Kegarding 
it  from  the  point  of  view  of  the  Art-Naturalist,  this  certainly 
seems  one  of  the  closest  approximations  to  the  absolute  cre- 
ativeness  of  Art  to  be  found  in  all  poetry. 

But  the  Golden  Eagle  did  not  furnish  a  symbol  of  freedom 
to  mankind — with  all  the  grandeur  of  ancient  association, 
this  the  grandest  and  most  noble  has  been  yet  denied.  Al- 
though a  most  magnificent  bird  it  is  too  sluggish  on  the  wing 
— seeking  with  its  feudal  type  "  advantage  of  position  "  for 
its  swoop ! — to  be  the  satisfactory  expression  of  that  univer- 
sality of  fiery,  keen  and  boundless  energy  which  belongs  to 
the  swift  spirit  of  freedom,  which  has  found  its  home  here  in 
the  New  World !  Of  this  the  White-headed  Eagle  is  the  true 
emblem !  He  asserts  an  empire  of  the  Empyrean  with  the 
ruthless  pride  of  a  prodigal,  indomitable  strength  in  pinion, 
beak  and  claw !  To  it  there  are  no  formulas  of  flight — no 
fixed  modes  of  taking  prey — all  comes  alike  to  its  inexorable 
appetite  and  quick  overcoming  wings.  Hear  Audubon's  de- 
scription of  its  varied  powers  of  flight : 

"  The  flight  of  the  White-headed  Eagle  is  strong,  generally 
uniform,  and  protracted  to  any  distance,  at  pleasure.  Whilst 
travelling,  it  is  entirely  supported  by  equal  easy  flappings, 
without  any  intermission,  in  as  far  as  I  have  observed  it,  by 
following  it  with  the  eye  or  the  assistance  of  a  glass.  When 
looking  for  prey,  it  sails  with  extended  wings,  at  right  angles 
to  its  body,  now  and  then  allowing  its  legs  to  hang  at  their 
full  length.  Whilst  sailing,  it  has  the  power  of  ascending  in 
circular  sweeps,  without  a  single  flap  of  the  wings,  or  any 
apparent  motion  either  of  them  or  of  the  tail ;  and  in  this 
manner  it  often  rises  until  it  disappears  from  the  view,  the 
white  tail  remaining  longer  visible  than  the  rest  of  the  body. 
At  other  times,  it  rises  only  a  few  hundred  feet  in  the  air, 
and  sails  off  in  a  direct  line,  and  with  rapidity.  Again,  when 
thus  elevated,  it  partially  closes  its  wings,  and  glides  down- 
wards for  a  considerable  space,  when,  as  if  disappointed,  it 


EAGLES  AND  ART.  263 

checks  its  career,  and  reassumes  its  former  steady  flight. 
When  at  an  immense  height,  and  as  if  observing  an  object 
on  the  ground,  it  closes  its  wings,  and  glides  through  the 
air  with  such  rapidity  as  to  cause  a  loud  rustling  sound,  not 
unlike  that  produced  by  a  violent  gust  of  wind  passing 
amongst  the  branches  of  trees.  Its  fall  towards  the  earth 
can  scarcely  be  followed  by  the  eye  on  such  occasions,  the 
more  particularly  that  these  falls  or  glidings  through  the  air 
usually  take  place  when  they  are  least  expected." 

Nothing  can  exceed  the  cool  audacity  and  overbearing 
vehemence  of  this  bird,  except  perhaps  the  spirit  of  the 
country  it  symbols.  In  powers  of  adaptation,  versatility  of 
resource  and  sublimity  of  action,  the  resemblance  is  no  less 
complete,  than  in  a  mutual  unscrupulousness  and  omnivor- 
ous rapacity. 

Mr.  Audubon  quotes,  with  often-expressed  approbation, 
an  opinion  of  Dr.  Franklin  in  which  the  Sage  expresses  his 
regret  that  the  White-headed  Eagle  had  been  chosen  as  the 
representative  of  our  country,  on  the  ground  that  it  is  a 
plundering  and  dishonest  bird.  We,  too,  regret  the  fact — 
not  that  it  has  been  chosen,  but  that  it  was  most  fit  and  ap- 
propriate that  it  should  have  been.  It  is  too  late  in  the  day 
now  for  us  to  mince  matters  and  talk  of  regret  that  the  ty- 
rannical Eobber  of  the  Fish-Hawk  should  be  emblazoned  on 
our  national  standard  when  our  armies  have  but  just  returned 
from  following  that  standard  to  the  dismemberment  of  Mex- 
ico— to  call  it  by  its  mildest  name  ! — and  when  each  year  it 
waves  above  a  new  line  of  military  out-posts  guarding  new  ter- 
ritory, of  which  we  have  dispossessed  the  aboriginal  owners. 

Plundering  Fish-Hawks  indeed ! — we  come  of  a  race  of 
Robbers,  and  the  Anglo-Norman  wild -fire  yet  riots  in  our 
veins.  The  only  consolation  is,  that  in  most  instances  we, 
in  obeying  this  predatory  instinct,  have  acted  magnificently 
• — as  our  Eagles  rob. 

This  feat  of  robbing  the  Fish-Hawk,  when  you  consider 
the  comparative  size,  strength  and  power  of  pinion  of  the 


264  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-B1EDS. 

two  Birds,  is  one  of  the  sublimest  to  be  witnessed  in  the  ac- 
tion of  the  natural  world,  and  though  you  may  regret  the 
fierce  greediness  of  the  audacious  Cloud-King,  and  be  very- 
far  from  defending  the  morality  of  the  proceeding,  yet  you 
cannot  restrain  an  admiration  of  the  manner.  You  may  re- 
gret that  poor  Fish-Hawks  have  to  be  robbed,  and  rejoice 
with  a  hearty  sympathy  when  you  see  them  combine  as  they 
sometimes  do  for  the  purpose  of  castigating  their  oppressor, 
yet  you  cannot  help  feeling  that  since  the  Eagles  are  incor- 
rigible and  beyond  the  reach  of  your  exhortations  to  reform, 
it  is  far  better  and  finer  to  have  them  do  what  is  inevitable 
from  their  natures  grandly,  than  to  do  it  ignobly. 

So  with  regard  to  the  spirit  of  "  acquisition,"  or  "  exten- 
sion," as  it  is  politely  termed — we  regret  that  it  should  be  so 
strongly  displayed  in  the  national  character,  but  see  no  use, 
so  long  as  there  is  any  more  territory  left  in  the  Hemisphere 
to  tempt  this  acquisitiveness,  in  putting  up  a  poor  mouth 
about  it.  The  fact  is,  we  cannot  expect  to  tame  the  Eagle — 
to  feed  on  milksops,  or  meekly  and  musically  "  roar  like 
any  sucking  dove !"  The  war-cry  is  its  natural  note,  and 
while  there  be  storms  to  gather  up  the  sky  we  may  expect 
to  hear  it  shouted  from  amidst  the  rack  thereof!  It  is  a 
Warrior-Bird — fit  emblem,  with  all  its  rapacity,  of  a  warlike 
people,  and  of  a  vigorous  freedom  that  should  have 

"  An  Eagle's  wings  for  scope  and  speediness." 

Franklin  repeats  the  stale  slander  concerning  it,  of  coward- 
ice— because  a  comparatively  small  creature,  like  the  King- 
Bird  or  Bee-Martin,  can  drive  it  off !  As  to  that,  the  Hum- 
ming-Bird  is  far  more  dreaded  by  it,  and  we  have  seen  the 
waspish  little  wretch  dart  in  between  the  wings  of  a  flying 
Eagle,  fasten  upon  the  top  of  its  head,  and  work  away  with 
long  sharp  bill  and  claws  until  the  floating  feathers  streamed 
after  the  flight  of  the  great  Bird,  which  would  seem  from  its 
darting,  irregular  movements,  to  be  almost  maddened  by  the 


EAGLES  AND  ART.  265 

petty  torture !  But  what  wonder ! — A  Lion  would  turn  tail 
upon  an  angry  Hornet,  and  a  Hector  or  an  Ajax  himself  be 
routed  by  a  hungry  Flea  beneath  his  armor !  With  every 
other  sin  upon  its  head,  the  bird  is  not  a  coward — for  the 
incident  which  Mr.  Audubon  gives  further  in  proof  of  this, 
is  not,  as  we  conceive,  altogether  a  fair  case  in  point.  The 
liability  to  panic,  when  suddenly  aroused  by  any  new  and 
extraordinary  presentation,  is  a  well-known  weakness  of  the 
mere  physical  courage. 

He  says,  "  When  these  birds  are  suddenly  and  unexpect- 
edly approached  or  surprised,  they  exhibit  a  great  degree  of 
cowardice.  They  rise  at  once  and  fly  off  very  low  in  zig- 
zag lines  to  some  distance,  uttering  a  hissing  noise,  not  at  all 
like  their  usual  disagreeable  imitation  of  a  laugh." 

This  is  not  by  any  means  our  interpretation  of  this  inci- 
dent. The  zig-zag  line  in  flying  off,  seems  to  us  rather  to 
express  the  instinctive  caution  of  rapacious  creatures,  who, 
when  aroused — perhaps  from  secure  slumbers — see  in  the 
unusual  object,  of  course,  a  formidable  enemy,  and  with  the 
prompt  suggestiveness  of  that  most  alert  of  the  instincts,  dart 
hither  and  yon,  to  distract  any  murderous  aim  which  may 
pursue  it — while  the  hissing  sound  as  they  go  off,  is  the 
earliest  expression  of  angry  defiance,  the  combative  impulse 
of  the  Eaglet  in  the  eyrie  knew.  It  is  rather  a  case  of  panic 
than  of  cowardice,  and  the  history  of  many  of  the  most  fear- 
less warriors  the  world  has  known,  will  furnish  similar  in- 
stances ! 

No,  the  White-headed  Eagle  is  not  a  coward.  The  charge 
has  as  little  base  upon  consistencies  and  the  nature  of  things 
as  a  similar  one  so  frequently  urged  against  Napoleon — 
though  while  the  daring  of  the  Eagle  is  physical,  that  of  the 
Eagle-man  is  spiritual. 

Shelley,  at  all  events,  saw  it  to  be  sufficient  as  an  emblem 
of  the  exulting  energies  of  Freedom.  That  Freedom  he  had 
watched  with  many  yearnings  grow  apace  in  youthful  lusti- 
hood,  subjugating  the  savage  wildernesses  of  the  New  World 


266  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIRDS. 

into  mild  and  plenteous  homes  for  the  freed  millions  of  the 
Old — in  a  Future,  he  foresaw — until  his  full  heart  burst  forth 
in  prophetic  utterance : — 

"  That  land  is  like  an  Eagle,  whose  young  gaze 
Feeds  on  the  noontide  beam,  whose  golden  plume 
Floats  moveless  on  the  storm,  and  in  the  blaze 
Of  sunrise  gleams  when  Earth  is  wrapt  in  gloom  ; 
An  epitaph  of  glory  for  the  tomb 
Of  murdered  Europe  may  thy  fame  be  made, 
Great  People  :  as  the  sands  shalt  thou  become ; 
Thy  growth  is  swift  as  morn,  when  night  must  fade ; 
The  multitudinous  Earth  shall  sleep  beneath  thy  shade." 

This  magnificent  image  fixes  the  Apotheosis  of  the  Eagle 
of  our  standard,  and  settles  all  mooted  questions  of  appropri- 
ateness, etc.,  forever,  as  we  conceive !"  In  spite  of  all  the 
indignities  heaped  upon  the  noble  bird  by  the  presumptuous 
familiarities  of  Sophomore  Eloquence  in  Fourth-of- July  ora- 
tions, or  the  fledgling  muse  of  Patriotism  in  Heroic  Odes,  it 
will  nevertheless  continue  to  be  the  proud  synonyme  and 
emblem  of  Liberty !  Street's  noble  Ode  to  "  The  Gray  For- 
est Eagle,"  is,  however,  anything  but  a  fledgling! 

The  Mexican  Eagle  is  a  true  carrion  bird,  as  filthy  as  it  is 
cowardly ;  and  our  southern  neighbors  may  really  be  con- 
sidered as  having  some  ground  for  sensitiveness  in  regard  to 
the  character  of  their  Standard,  but  we  certainly  have  none. 
It  is  hardly  magnanimous  to  insult  a  fallen  foe  by  instituting 
a  comparison,  naturally  suggested,  between  the  character  of 
that  bird  and  the  people  of  which  it  is  the  National  Em- 
blem ;  it  is  sufficient  that  for  the  present  it  has  cowered  be- 
neath the  higher  flight,  the  stronger  beak,  and  fiercer  daring 
of  our  own  grand  bird  ! 

We  have  this  Caracara,  or  Brazilian  Eagle  of  the  Mexican 
standard,  also  as  a  resident  of  Texas  and  the  Floridas,  where 
it  is  regarded  with  the  mingled  aversion  and  contempt  which 
all  men  feel  for  the  vultures.  But  we  have,  as  an  offset  to 


EAGLES  AND  ART.  267 

this,  the  most  magnificent  Eagle  in  the  world — "  The  Bird 
of  Washington,"  as  it  has  been  most  appropriately  called  by 
Mr.  Audubon,  its  discoverer.  We  shall  not  speak  farther  of 
this  majestic  creature  for  the  present.  When  we  are  no 
longer  an  immature  nation,  then,  perhaps,  it  might  be  well 
to  place  this  grand  and  stately  bird  upon  our  standard  ! 

The  White-headed  Eagle  is  a  true  Yankee,  and  does  every- 
thing after  a  fashion  of  its  own,  without  any  regard  to  family 
precedents.  It  is  very  uncommon  for  other  Eagles  to  hunt 
in  pairs;  indeed  they  never  do  it  at  any  rate,  except  at  ex- 
traordinary times,  in  the  breeding  season.  This  Eagle,  how- 
ever, seems  to  be  entirely  utilitarian,  and  to  be  guided,  in 
this  particular,  by  the  necessities  of  the  case.  They  seldom 
feed  apart,  and  if  the  habits  of  the  prey  most  convenient  to 
them  render  it  necessary,  they  combine  for  its  pursuit  with- 
out consulting  formulas  of  propriety.  Mr.  Audubon  de- 
scribes a  well-known  instance  of  this  sort : 

"  When  these  Eagles,  sailing  in  search  of  prey,  discover  a 
Goose,  a  Duck,  or  a  Swan,  that  has  alighted  on  the  water, 
they  accomplish  its  destruction  in  a  manner  that  is  worthy 
of  your  attention.  The  Eagles,  well  aware  that  water-fowl 
have  it  in  their  power  to  dive  at  their  approach,  and  thereby 
elude  their  attempts  upon  them,  ascend  in  the  air  in  oppo- 
site directions  over  the  lake  or  river,  on  which  they  have 
observed  the  object  which  they  are  desirous  of  possessing. 
Both  Eagles  reach  a  certain  height,  immediately  after  which 
one  of  them  glides  with  great  swiftness  towards  the  prey ; 
the  latter,  meantime,  aware  of  the  Eagle's  intention,  dives 
the  moment  before  he  reaches  the  spot.  The  pursuer  then 
rises  in  the  air,  and  is  met  by  its  mate,  which  glides  toward 
the  water-bird,  that  has  just  emerged  to  breathe,  and  forces 
it  to  plunge  again  beneath  the  surface,  to  escape  the  talons 
of  this  second  assailant.  The  first  Eagle  is  now  poising 
itself  in  the  place  where  its  mate  formerly  was,  and  rushes 
anew  to  force  the  quarry  to  make  another  plunge.  By  thus 
alternately  gliding,  in  rapid  and  often  repeated  rushes,  over 


268  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIEDS. 

the  ill-fated  bird,  they  soon  fatigue  it,  when  it  stretches  out 
its  neck,  swims  deeply,  and  makes  for  the  shore,  in  the  hope 
of  concealing  itself  among  the  rank  weeds.  But  this  is  of  no 
avail,  for  the  Eagles  follow  it  in  all  its  motions,  and  the  mo- 
ment it  approaches  the  margin,  one  of  them  darts  upon  it, 
and  kills  it  in  an  instant,  after  which  they  divide  the  spoil." 

The  hunters  and  Indians  say  that  a  pair  of  these  birds  will 
sometimes  attack,  with  success,  a  deer  or  antelope,  upon  the 
prairies.  They  select  some  animal  which,  being  wounded  or 
for  other  cause,  has  separated  itself  from  the  herd.  They 
assault  it  from  above,  something  after  the  manner  just  de- 
scribed, striking  in  swift  dives  at  the  eyes  with  beak  and 
talons,  until  the  speed  of  the  agonized  creature  is  gradually 
checked,  and  reeling  blindly  along  for  a  little  while,  it  falls, 
to  be  torn  an  easy  prey.  The  same  fact  is  related  concern- 
ing the  Great  Vulture  of  the  East  and  the  Condor  of  South 
America,  both  of  which  are  known  in  this  way  to  destroy 
large  animals  that  have  been  ever  so  slightly  wounded — 
being  stimulated  to  the  unusual  assault  by  the  smell  of 
blood. 

The  vital  power  of  the  Eagle  is  most  amazing.  In  addi- 
tion to  the  surprising  fact,  that  it  has  been  known  to  live  as 
many  as  twenty  days  without  food,  and  exhibit  little  appa- 
rent distress  therefrom,  it  has  been  found  to  be  about  invul- 
nerable to  poisons,  both  gaseous  and  mineral,  that  are  surely 
fatal  to  other  creatures.  Two  instances  in  point  are  men- 
tioned in  the  Biography  of  Birds.  In  the  first,  a  White- 
headed  Eagle  was  sentenced  to  contribute  to  a  cabinet  of 
natural  history,  etc. 

"  A  variety  of  experiments  was  made  with  a  view  to  de- 
stroy him  without  injuring  his  plumage,  and  a  number  of 
mineral  poisons  were  successively  given  him  in  large  doses, 
but  without  effect.  At  length  a  drachm  of  corrosive  subli- 
mate of  mercury  was  inclosed  in  a  small  fish,  and  given  him 
to  eat.  After  swallowing  the  whole  of  this,  he  continued  to 
appearance  perfectly  well,  and  free  from  inconvenience. 


EAGLES  AND  ART-  269 

The  next  day  an  equal  quantity  of  white  arsenic  was  given 
him,  without  any  greater  effect ;  so  that  in  the  end  the  re- 
fractory bird  was  obliged  to  be  put  to  death  by  mechanical 
means." 

In  the  second,  a  Golden  Eagle  was  the  victim.  It  had 
been  taken  in  a  fox-trap,  on  the  White  Mountains,  and  was 
procured  alive  and  in  fine  condition,  by  Mr.  Audubon,  who 
found  it  necessary  to  take  its  life  that  he  might  paint  its  por- 
trait. The  passage,  though  long  for  our  space,  is  so  charac- 
teristic that  we  cannot  refrain  from  giving  it  entire.  He 
says: — "I  occupied  myself  a  whole  day  in  watching  his 
movements ;  on  the  next  I  came  to  a  determination  as  to  the 
position  in  which  I  might  best  represent  him ;  and  on  the 
third  thought  of  how  I  could  take  away  his  life  with  the 
least  pain  to  him.  I  consulted  several  persons  on  the  sub- 
ject, and  among  others  my  most  worthy  and  generous  friend, 
GEORGE  PARKMAN,  Esq.,  M.D.,  who  kindly  visited  my  family 
every  day.  He  spoke  of  suffocating  him  by  means  of  burn 
ing  charcoal,  of  killing  him  by  electricity,  &c.,  and  we  both 
concluded  that  the  first  method  would  probably  be  the  easiest 
for  ourselves,  and  the  least  painful  to  him.  Accordingly  the 
bird  was  removed  in  his  prison  into  a  very  small  room,  and 
closely  covered  with  blankets,  into  which  was  introduced  a 
pan  of  lighted  charcoal,  when  the  windows  and  doors  were 
fastened,  and  the  blankets  tucked  in  beneath  the  cage.  I 
waited,  expecting  every  moment  to  hear  him  fall  down  from 
his  perch  ;  but  after  listening  for  hours,  I  opened  the  door, 
raised  the  blankets,  and  peeped  under  them  amidst  a  mass 
of  suffocating  fumes.  There  stood  the  Eagle  on  his  perch, 
with  his  bright  unflinching  eye  turned  towards  me,  and  as 
lively  and  vigorous  as  ever !  Instantly  reclosing  every 
aperture,  I  resumed  my  station  at  the  door,  and  towards 
midnight,  not  having  heard  the  least  noise,  I  again  took  a 
peep  at  my  victim.  He  was  still  uninjured,  although  the  air 
of  the  closet  was  insupportable  to  my  son  and  myself,  and 
that  of  the  adjoining  apartment  began  to  feel  unpleasant.  I 


270  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIEDS. 

persevered,  however,  ten  hours  in  all,  when  finding  that  the 
charcoal  fumes  would  not  produce  the  desired  effect,  I  re- 
tired to  rest  wearied  and  disappointed. 

"  Early  next  morning  I  tried  the  charcoal  anew,  adding  to 
it  a  quantity  of  sulphur,  but  we  were  nearly  driven  from  our 
home  in  a  few  hours  by  the  stifling  vapors,  while  the  noble 
bird  continued  to  stand  erect,  and  to  look  defiance  at  us 
whenever  we  approached  his  post  of  martyrdom.  His  fierce 
demeanor  precluded  all  internal  application,  and  at  last  I 
was  compelled  to  resort  to  a  method  always  used  as  the  last 
expedient,  and  a  most  effectual  one.  I  thrust  a  long-pointed 
piece  of  steel  through  his  heart,  when  my  proud  prisoner 
instantly  fell  dead,  without  even  ruffling  a  feather. 

"I  sat  up  nearly  the  whole  of  another  night  to  outline 
him,  and  worked  so  constantly  at  the  drawing,  that  it  nearly 
cost  me  my  life.  I  was  suddenly  seized  with  a  spasmodic 
affection,  that  much  alarmed  my  family,  and  completely 
prostrated  me  for  some  days ;  but,  thanks  to  my  heavenly 
Preserver,  and  the  immediate  and  unremitting  attention  of 
my  most  worthy  friends,  Drs.  PARKMAN,  SHATTUCK,  and 
WARREN,  I  was  soon  restored  to  health,  and  enabled  to  pur- 
sue my  labors.  The  drawing  of  this  Eagle  took  me  fourteen 
days,  and  I  had  never  before  labored  so  incessantly  except- 
ing at  that  of  the  Wild  Turkey." 

Ah,  what  an  insight  have  we  here  of  the  patient,  careful 
processes  and  unsparing  self-devotion  of  the  Art-Naturalist ! 
Think ! — fourteen  days  of  such  ardent  and  unceasing  labor 
as  to  bring  the  strong  man  near  to  the  grave ! — and  all  to 
draw  a  single  bird.  Ye  stupid  contemners  of  such  "  lowly 
themes"  as  the  Art-Naturalist  chose,  think  of  this! — and 
remember  it  was  thus  he  won  his  illustrious  name  among 
the  Eagle-men  of  Earth  ! 

This  incessant  and  hurried  labor  was  rendered  necessary 
by  the  fact,  that  the  plumage  and  skin  of  the  dead  specimen 
rapidly  lose  both  color  and  gloss  !  What  an  image  of  seem- 
ingly unconquerable  vitality  is  that  of  the  Eagle  on  its  perch, 


EAGLES  AND  ART.  271 

with  bright  unflinching  eye,  after  thus  breathing  that  deadly 
gas  for  hours !  And  now  let  us  add,  from  the  same  source, 
another  sketch,  that  of  the  Old  Eagle,  illustrating  this  same 
point. 

"It  is  supposed  that  Eagles  live  to  a  very  great  age, — 
some  persons  have  ventured  to  say  even  a  hundred  years. 
On  this  subject,  I  can  only  observe,  that  I  once  found  one 
of  these  birds,  which,  on  being  killed,  proved  to  be  a  female, 
and  which,  judging  by  its  appearance,  must  have  been  very 
old.  Its  tail  and  wing-feathers  were  so  worn  out,  and  of 
such  a  rusty  color,  that  I  imagined  the  bird  had  lost  the 
power  of  moulting.  The  legs  and  feet  were  covered  with 
large  warts,  the  claws  and  bill  were  much  blunted,  it  could 
scarcely  fly  more  than  a  hundred  yards  at  a  time,  and  this  it 
did  with  a  heaviness  and  unsteadiness  of  motion  such  as  I 
never  witnessed  in  any  other  bird  of  the  species.  The  body 
was  poor  and  very  tough.  The  eye  was  the  only  part  which 
appeared  to  have  sustained  no  injury.  It  remained  spark- 
ling and  full  of  animation,  and  even  after  death  seemed  to 
have  lost  little  of  its  lustre.  No  wounds  were  perceivable 
on  its  body." 

Think  of  the  gem-like  glittering  of  that  tameless  glance 
beneath  the  deepening  shadows  of  the  gathered  years ! — it 
seems  as  if  the  glorious  bird  would  die  into  a  diamond  to 
shine  on,  night-piercing  and  defiant  there  forever  ! — as  if  the 
light  of  that  fierce  life  the  storms  have  fed,  would  remain  a 
thing  imperishable  within  that  eyelet-hole,  although  the  skull 
should  fall  away  to  dust — the  bloody  beak  leave  but  a  hooked 
line  where  it  went  out — and  plumes  that  have  been  ruffled  by 
the  thunder,  float  away  impalpable  upon  a  breath  of  air ! 

What  changes  has  not  that  century-piercing  vision  wit- 
nessed? The  young  Eagle,  in  its  brown  plumage,  sailed 
above  silent  woods,  along  the  valleys  of  our  great  rivers  in 
the  West,  and  there  was  nothing  to  make  it  afraid  in  the 
shades  beneath,  except  the  whistling  arrow  of  the  Red-man, 
when  it  passed  above  his  wigwam,  or  rustled,  brushing  by 


272  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIRDS. 

his  still  form,  watching  with  sinew-strung  bow  amidst  path- 
less solitudes.  When  it  had  donned  the  blanched  insignia 
of  Eagle-hood,  and  on  steadier  wings  with  swifter  rushing 
flight,  spread  its  white  tail  and  threw  its  white  head  far  back 
to  utter  resounding  war-cries,  then,  with  a  shock,  upsprung 
in  answer,  the  sharp  ring  of  the  rifle,  and  the  hissing  bullet 
told  that  a  more  fearful  foe  had  come !  And  now  it  became 
more  wary  and  learned  to  fear  for  its  wild  empire ;  for  from 
afar  the  gradual  hum  of  an  approaching  civilization  swelled 
upon  the  ancient  silence,  until  the  belching  roar  of  a  Steam- 
boat roused  the  startled  echoes  to  reverberate  on  distant  hills 
as  it  passed  up  the  quiet-gliding  river !  Then  in  fire,  in 
thunder,  and  in  smoke,  the  mysterious  and  terrible  Advent 
was  announced  to  all  the  creatures  of  a  wilderness  which 
was  henceforth  to  own  a  new  dominion,  and  with  sullen 
flappings  the  Eagle  passed  away  towards  the  West,  above 
falling  forests  and  uprising  cities,  to  find  the  unviolated 
solitudes. 

There  again  the  same  sights  and  sounds  would  follow  it 
apace,  until  at  last  the  Steam  Horse,  snorting  flames,  came 
tearing  through  the  bowels  of  the  old  solemn  hills,  to  fill  the 
wide  valleys  beyond  with  the  iron  clangor  of  its  hurtling 
speed,  and  then  the  astounded  guardian  of  Earth's  Primeval 
sleep  whirled  away  on  hurried  wings,  deeper  yet  deeper  to- 
wards the  West !  Still  the  inexorable  pursuers  came  upon 
its  track,  and  still  it  passed  on  before,  in  shortening  flights, 
until  at  last  its  earliest  foe  no  longer  answered  with  the  war- 
whoop  to  its  scream,  and  the  forests  seemed  oppressed  with 
the  silence  of  a  pause,  as  if  it  but  awaited,  breathlessly,  the 
terrible  coming ! 

And  here  the  swift- winged  bird  first  felt  that  it  was  weary ! 
The  steel-hinged  pinions  that  had  "  sheared  the  subtile  ay  re" 
so  long,  seemed  to  have  lost  their  free,  triumphing  spring, 
and  it  went  heavily  upon  its  way.  Now  its  savage  pride 
becomes  reconciled  in  a  degree  to  the  tumults  and  strange 
sounds  from  which  it  fled  at  first  in  fiercest  wrath,  because 


EAGLES  AND  ART.  273 

it  finds  the  lambs,  pigs,  geese  and  turkeys  of  the  farm-yard 
to  be  easier  prey  to  its  decaying  powers  than  the  wild  crea- 
tures it  had  proudly  conquered  in  the  earlier  lustrums  of  the 
century  it  is  living  to  a  close. 

Now  the  Koyal  Eagle  sinks  into  a  petty  plunderer,  and  the 
final  decadence  of  its  grandeur  is,  when,  from  the  last  patch 
of  its  forest-home  it  launches  out  on  stiffened  wings  above 
the  villages  on  some  "  Independence  morning,"  and  hears, 
as  it  wheels  slowly  over  the  gathered  crowds,  wild  shouts  of 
patriotic  recognition  as  the  youthful  Orator  points  aloft  to 
the  omen  of  Liberty ! — Shouts  that  but  frighten  the  super- 
annuated Cloud-King,  which  rushes  on  to  the  nearest  covert 
to  hide,  until  the  warty  barnacles  of  age  overtake  it,  and  its 
rusty  plumes  no  longer  lift  it  to  the  clouds  ! 

18 


CHAPTER  XII. 

MY  WIFE'S  STORY  OF  HER  PET  CAT-BIRD,   "  GENERAL  BEM." 

Two  years  ago  we  were  residing  in  C .  We  had  very  few 

friends  near  us,  and  sometimes  the  days  seemed  very  dreary 
and  long  to  us,  for  our  pet  Brownie  had  been  dead  many 
months,  and  we  had  said  we  could  never  have  another  such 
pet ;  to  lose  him  had  grieved  us  too  much,  and  we  would  not 
have  our  hearts  so  nearly  broken  again. 

Still  we  could  not  but  admire  the  taste  of  our  new  ac- 
quaintance, "W ,  who  kept  his  bachelor  establishment 

solely  for  the  accommodation  of  pet  song-birds,  and  that  his 
own  love  and  genius  for  music  might  be  nourished  by  this 
association  of  all  our  most  charming  songsters.  "We  spent 
many  an  hour  in  his  "  bird  rooms,"  listening  to  the  gay  mim- 
icry of  mocking  birds,  the  clear,  musical  piping  of  his  English 
black  birds,  and  the  loud,  enchanting  whistle  of  the  cardinal 
birds,  carrying  us  dreamily  deep  into  the  shadow  of  wild- 
woods,  where  other  sounds  faded  from  the  ear,  and  all  our 
senses  merged  towards  one  centre,  where  gleamed  the  glow- 
ing breast  of  the  cardinal  bird,  lifted  above  the  bare  branches, 
which  stood  gauntly  out  from  the  green,  embosoming  leaves 
which  would  have  shut  him  from  the  sunlight  had  he  de- 
scended. 

The  lark  leaping  upward,  chaunted  his  song  with  a  sad- 
dened tone  that  made  us  weep,  while  we  felt  how  even  the 
presence  of  those  gay  companions  was  no  compensation  for 
the  clear  sky,  which  had  filled  his  eye  with  such  liquid  light, 


275 

which  had  sunk  into  his  soul,  and  so  filled  it  with  melody  as 
he  beat  the  still  air  with  his  gentle  wings. 

Then  hid  away  among  the  bushes  which  filled  one  corner, 
we  could  sometimes  catch  a  glimpse  of  Bob  White,  as  he 
called  his  "  wife  "  back  from  her  inquisitive  peering  at  us,  and 
the  little  shore  larks  who  were  so  shy  and  gliding,  looking 
ever  as  if  some  still  wave  from  the  sea  was  chasing  them 
higher  on  the  sands,  and  as  if  they  must  in  a  moment  take 
wing,  while  we  gaze  steadily  to  distinguish  their  rapid  quiv- 
ering flight  in  the  sunshine,  from  the  dash  of  glittering  spray. 

But  what  have  we  here  ?  What  a  lovely  figure — what 
perfect  plumage !  What  do  you  call  this  gentleman  who 
seems  to  be  protector  general  of  all  that  crowd  of  canaries  ? 
See !  the  scamp  has  pounced  upon  that  large  mocking  bird, 
and  has  sent  him  screaming  in  rage  across  the  room.  And 
how  cool  he  is  ;  he  evidently  does  not  consider  that  a  great 
feat.  What  a  knowing  air  he  has! — how,  he  determines  to 
make  our  acquaintance — to  retort  to  our  questionings.  We 
beg  the  honor  of  an  introduction  to  this  extremely  nonchal- 
ant gentleman.  No !  do  not  tell  me  he  is  called  simple 
"  Master  Cat-Bird  " — let  me  confer  upon  him  his  rightful  title. 
Henceforth  we  shall  know  him  as  "  General  Bern  " — the 
brave  general — the  magnanimous,  the  impulsive  though  calm, 
the  handsome,  our  favorite  General  Bern.  Come  here,  and 
take  this  berry  in  proof  that  your  honors  are  real,  not  vision- 
ary, as  the  world  too  often  makes  them.  Henceforth  thou 
art  Bern !  Great  Bern — we  take  thee  to  our  heart  and — may 
we  be  permitted  to  take  him  to  our  home ! 

Well,  General  Bern  went  home  with  us  at  once,  and  was 
immediately  given  his  liberty,  which  he  made  use  of  by  peer- 
ing into  every  closet,  examining  and  dragging  everything 
from  its  proper  place,  which  he  could  manage,  pecking  and 
squalling,  dashing  hither  and  thither,  until  at  night  he  quietly 
went  into  his  cage  as  if  he  was  nearly  or  quite  positive  that 
he  must  commence  a  new  career  on  the  morrow ;  it  was  evi- 
dent that  he  had  to  begin  the  world  over  again,  yet,  as  he 


276  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIRDS. 

was  not  superannuated,  and  was,  withal,  ambitious,  his  case 
was  still  not  a  desperate  one,  although  we  had  assured  him 
most  positively,  that  we  would  not  fall  in  love  with  him — we 
had  only  invited  him  there  to  help  us  pass  the  time. 

Bern  looked  wise  at  the  assertion,  but  said  nothing.  The 
next  morning  we  gave  him  water  for  a  bath,  which  he  im- 
mediately used,  and  then  sprang  upon  my  head  very  much 
to  my  surprise ;  then  he  darted  to  the  window,  then  back  to 
my  head,  screaming  all  the  time  most  vociferously,  until 
finally  I  went  to  the  window,  for  peace  sake,  and  stood  in 
the  sunshine  while  Bern  composedly  dressed  his  feathers, 
standing  on  my  head  first  on  one  foot,  then  on  the  other, 
evidently  using  my  scalp  as  a  sort  of  foot-stove,  and  my  head 
for  a  movable  pedestal  for  his  impudent  generalship  to  perch 
on  when  he  felt  disposed  to  be  comfortably  elevated ;  and  had 
clearly  come  to  the  conclusion — as  I  was  so  fond  of  trans- 
porting him  from  his  native  land — that  I  should  serve  as  a 
convenient  craft  to  bear  him  where  his  moods  commanded. 
In  a  word,  he  had  determined  to  turn  tyrant ;  if  I  had  had 
the  deliberate  purpose  of  using  him  as  a  mere  toy,  he  had  at 
least  the  coolness  to  make  me  available,  and  from  that  time 
I  became  the  victim  of  the  most  unequalled  tyranny.  Did 
I  neglect  his  morning  bath  beyond  the  instant,  my  ears  were 
assailed  with  screams  and  cries  till  I  was  forced  to  my 
duty ;  I  must  bear  him  into  the  sunshine  or  my  hair  was 
pulled ;  1  must  bring  him  his  breakfast  or  he  pecked  my 
cheeks  and  lips ;  in  fine,  I  was  compelled  to  become  his  con- 
stant attendant,  while,  in  the  meantime,  he  most  diligently 
assailed  my  heart  by  endearing  confidences.  He  would  sit 
upon  my  arm  and  sleep,  he  would  get  into  my  work-box,  and 
while  I  watched  that  he  did  not  pilfer  a  little,  he  would 
quietly  seat  himself  on  its  edge,  and  in  a  low,  sweet  voice,  lull 
my  suspicions  by  such  tender  melodies,  that  finally  I  could  no 
longer  say — "I  will  not  love  you,  Bern  I" — but  gave  him  the 
satisfactory  assurance  that  he  was  not  quite  so  much  of  a 
tease  as  I  had  tried  to  think  him ;  and  he  now  received  my 


"GENERAL  BEM."  277 

daily  offering  of  small  spiders  and  worms  with  gestures  of 
evident  pleasure.  These  were  always  presented  to  him  en- 
veloped in  white  paper,  which  he  carefully  opened  and  se- 
cured then  his  prey  before  it  could  escape,  even  although 
it  was  sometimes  a  difficult  task  to  keep  his  vigilant  eye 
upon  so  many  apparently  escapading — when  I  was  called  to 
the  field,  and  appointing  me  a  station,  I  was  expected  to  give 
the  alarm  when  one  attempted  to  get  away  on  my  side,  which 
he  immediately  killed  and  dropped,  and  then  darted  after 
those  on  the  outskirts  of  the  field  of  action. 

At  last,  one  day,  Mr.  Webber  brought  for  my  sister  a 
wood  thrush,  which  was  very  wild  and  savage,  and  was,  be- 
sides, extremely  ugly,  but  had  the  reputation  of  being  a  good 
singer,  which  made  us  forgive  his  sullen  temper  and  hope  to 
win  him  back  to  more  gentle  ways,  when  he  should  see  thaA 
we  would  be  his  friends  and  that  he  should  be  almost  free ; 
besides,  Gen.  Bern  was  evidently  much  inclined  to  make  his 
acquaintance,  and  took  the  first  occasion  to  pay  him  a  visit 
in  his  cage-house.  This  the  stranger  did  not  fancy,  and  drove 
him  out.  Bern  resented  this,  by  turning  on  the  threshold 
and  pouring  forth  a  torrent  of  screams  and  mewings  which 
came  near  distracting  the  poor  thrush,  who  darted  at  him 
and  chased  him  to  the  bed,  under  which  Bern  darted,  and 
was  secure  for  the  present.  But  from  that  time  there  were 
no  more  overtures  of  friendship — they  were  sworn  enemies ; 
the  thrush,  from  detestation  of  the  impudent  fellow  who  in- 
vaded his  residence,  and  finally  appropriated  it,  to  the  entire 
desertion  of  his  own,  which,  by-the-bye,  was  much  larger,  and 
with  which  the  thrush  eventually  consoled  himself,  and  Bern 
continued  to  occupy,  because  it  amused  him  to  pester  the  ill- 
natured  fellow  which  he  had  set  down  the  thrush  to  be.  Many 
were  the  quaint  scenes  which  now  daily  occurred.  If  Bern  de- 
sired to  take  a  bathe,  the  thrush  would  endeavor  to  push  him 
out;  but  Bern  was  not  to  be  ousted  in  that  style  if  he  could  pre- 
vent it,  and  commonly  sent  the  poor  thrush  away  in  consterna- 
tion, his  musical  ear  stunned  by  such  direful  din  as  threatened 


278  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIRDS. 

to  rend  his  delicate  heart  as  well  as  tympanum.  Ne  rer  shall 
I  forget  one  droll  scene.  One  day,  Bern  found  on  the  floor  a 
white  grape  which  he  seemed  to  be  disposed  comfortably  to  dis- 
cuss, after  having  rolled  it  out  into  the  broad  sunshine.  Just 
at  this  moment  the  thrush  stepped  up  in  a  cool  and  dignified 
manner,  and  carried  the  grape  off — dropped  it  in  the  shade, 
and  deliberately  drawing  up  one  foot  among  his  feathers, 
seemed  to  say :  "I  claim  this  grape  as  my  own,  I  stand  on 
the  defensive,  come  and  get  it  if  you  dare !" — so  closed  the 
"off"  eye,  and  looked  as  if  the  matter  was  settled  to  his  en- 
tire satisfaction. 

Bern  had  been  in  the  very  act  of  pecking  the  grape 
when  it  was  so  unceremoniously  withdrawn ;  he  drew  him- 
self up  on  tip-toe  fairly  with  astonishment,  his  eye  seemed 
to  grow  larger  and  rounder,  the  feathers  on  his  head  stood 
alternately  erect  and  clung  close  to  the  scalp ;  he  stood  a  mo- 
ment or  two,  and  then  with  a  loud  "mew,"  darted  forward 
to  re-capture  the  stolen  fruit,  but  the  thrush  coolly  and  si- 
lently met  him  with  open  mouth  and  body  thrown  forward, 
yet  still  covering  the  grape.  Bern's  wit  returned  to  him — he 
quietly  turned  off,  as  if  it  was  a  small  matter  anyhow.  We 
were  astonished — was  Bern  a  coward  after  all  ?  would  he  per- 
mit this  bird,  even  if  he  was  larger,  to  impose  upon  him  in 
this  fashion,  and  he  able  to  whip  mocking  birds  at  that  ?  We 
shook  our  heads ;  if  Bern  does  that  we  shall  withdraw  his 
laurels.  But  see !  he  comes  cautiously  about  the  thrush — 
what  does  he  mean  ?  ah,  we  perceive ;  Bern  has  sagaciously 
only  changed  his  tactics,  we  will  watch  him ;  he  thinks  the 
thrush  will  want  some  dinner  pretty  soon,  and  then,  as  Bern  dis- 
dains to  be  called  quarrelsome,  he  will  quietly  appropriate  his 
treasure.  Four  hours  things  retained  this  position,  the  thrush 
never  moving  more  than  six  inches  from  his  post,  though 
evidently  becoming  hungry  and  weary,  while  Bern  silently 
wandered  about  the  room,  feasting  in  the  most  provokingly 
cool  way  in  both  cages,  and  continually  making  inadvertent 
incursions  in  the  neighborhood  of  his  enemy,  as  if  for  the 


"GENEKAL  BEM.  "  279 

purpose  of  throwing  Mm  off  his  guard.  At  last,  Bern  was 
on  the  other  side  of  the  room,  the  thrush  had  been  eyeing 
a  dainty  morsel  which  Bern  had  dropped  about  two  feet  from 
him.  He  looked,  Bern  was  too  much  engaged  to  notice  him,  he 
could  easily  venture — he  would — he  did.  Bern,  whose  keen 
eye  had  seen  all,  darted  like  lightning,  and  before  the  thrush 
could  turn  about  and  seize  again  the  contested  treasure,  Bern 
had  alighted  on  the  centre  of  the  bed — the  only  place  in  the 
room  where  the  thrush  would  not  follow  him — and  there 
quietly  tore  the  grape  to  pieces  and  left  it. 

But,  alas !  we  had  to  send  our  brave,  sagacious  Bern  home 
again.  We  were  to  make  a  long  journey  to  the  South,  and. 
he  must  stay  behind.  Ah,  the  poor  fellow  knew  as  well  as 
we,  that  we  were  bidding  him  adieu.  He  pecked  our  fin- 
gers in  great  distress,  and  bit  our  lips  till  the  blood  came,  in 
the  energy  of  his  farewell — while  he  uttered  such  sad  low 
cries  as  made  us  mourn  for  many  a  day  in  the  remembrance. 

During  our  absence  we  wrote  frequently  inquiring  of  Bern, 
and  many  an  injunction  to  him,  to  live  and  die,  if  need  be, 
the  same  brave  general  we  had  known  him.  We  never  ex- 
pected to  see  him  again ;  but,  after  a  year  of  wanderings,  we 
did  return  to  our  old  home.  At  once  we  went  to  see  the 
general,  little  dreaming  that  we  should  be  remembered. 
What  was  our  surprise,  then,  when  we  called  "  Bern  !  Bern  ! 
General  Bern !"  to  see  our  dear  friend  and  pet  dart  down  to 
us  from  his  hiding-place,  and  most  evidently  recognize  us — 
his  eye  sparkling,  his  scalp  feathers  raised,  his  wings  droop- 
ing, and  that  same  low  cry  which  had  haunted  us  so  long, 
greeting  us  again.  Our  happiness  was  real — and  when  we 
offered  him  the  white  paper,  he  instantly  darted  upon  it,  and 
tore  it  asunder  to  get  the  well-remembered  treasure  he  had 
always  found  within. 

Again  Bern  went  home  with  us — this  time  to  fill  our 
hearts  with  affection  by  his  quaint  impish  ways  and  gentle 
waywardness.  Now,  he  became  a  privileged  character ;  my 
paint-box  was  his  especial  admiration — he  treated  it  with 


280  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIEDS. 

great  veneration,  having  discovered  that  birds  grew  out  of 
the  little  square  pebbles,  as  he  doubtless  considered  them — 
until  one  day  he  perceived  that  I  objected  to  his  lifting  from 
its  case  a  black-looking,  ill-shaped  piece  of  paint,  that  I  was 
even  decidedly  opposed  to  his  meddling  with  it ;  from  that 
moment  that  particular  piece  became  a  treasure — its  value 
so  great  to  him,  that  hide  where  I  might,  it  had  ever  an  in- 
visible glitter,  which  to  his  eyes  was  brighter  than  any  gem ; 
he  would  find  and  hide  it  from  me,  and  thus  I  had  at  least 
once  every  day  to  search  the  room  over  for  this  indispen- 
sable color.  No  matter  that  I  threatened  him,  he  coolly 
dressed  his  feathers  and  commenced  so  dreamy  a  song  as  to 
soothe  my  rage  at  once.  He  became  my  constant  compan- 
ion, he  bathed  with  me  in  the  morning,  he  took  his  dinners 
with  me  from  my  plate,  and  perched  at  night  close  to  my  head. 
He  sat  on  my  shoulder  or  head  when  I  worked,  and  seemed 
to  express  his  opinion  in  regard  to  my  progress  in  bird- 
making,  with  quite  a  connoisseuring  air.  He  grew  to  be 
profoundly  jealous  of  all  other  birds,  and  if  I  talked  to  a 
fine  mocking  bird,  whose  cage  hung  in  my  room,  he  would 
become  so  enraged  and  finally  depressed,  that  I  became 
alarmed — I  feared  he  would  die.  One  day  I  had  given  this 
bird  some  water,  my  hand  was  in  the  cage,  the  mocking  bird 
was  pecking  at  rny  fingers,  when  with  a  loud  and  vicious 
scream,  General  Bern  dashed  from  the  floor  up  into  the 
cage,  and  commenced  a  violent  assault  upon  the  inmate. 
The  struggle  was  but  for  a  moment — he  dashed  out  and  I 
shut  the  cage  door — while  Bern,  mounted  on  the  bed-post, 
sent  forth  such  yells  of  fury  as  I  never  heard  from  bird's 
lungs  before.  I  could  not  pacify  him  for  a  long  time — seve- 
ral hours — he  hid  in  the  shade  of  the  furniture,  and  would 
not  be  induced  to  come  out.  The  next  day  the  mocker  was 
flying  about  the  room,  Bern  assailed  him,  and  the  fight  be- 
came so  desperate,  that  I  was  obliged  to  send  the  mocking 
bird  away,  while  my  poor  Bern  was  seized  with  convulsions, 
and  I  thought  him  dead  after  a  few  moments.  But  his  time 


281 

had  not  yet  come,  lie  lived  to  pass  through,  many  such  scenes 
of  painful  suffering. 

I  had  about  the  same  time  a  Painted  Finch.  This  was 
the  most  quarrelsome  little  rogue  in  the  world,  and  con- 
tinually invited  Bern  to  a  trial  of  skill.  But  Bern  refused, 
with  the  most  decisive  manner,  to  have  anything  to  do  with 
him,  and  although  the  Finch  was  the  most  tyrannical  com- 
panion, preventing  Bern  from  entering  his  own  cage,  driving 
him  from  certain  parts  of  the  room,  and  really  making  him- 
self intensely  disagreeable  at  times,  yet  Bern  magnanimously 
refused  to  become  provoked  into  a  quarrel  with  his  petite 
enemy,  and  seemed  rather  to  be  amused,  never  even  conde- 
scending to  become  jealous  of  the  pretty  Finch. 

One  cold  day,  the  Finch  concluded  to  take  a  flight  among 
the  bare  branches  of  the  trees  in  the  garden.  The  window 
was  down  about  two  inches,  and  he  went  out.  We  had 
much  difficulty  in  catching  the  fellow,  and  only  succeeded 
when  he  had  become  numbed  with  the  cold.  When  we  re- 
turned from  our  chase  after  him,  what  was  our  consterna- 
tion at  finding  that  both  doors  and  windows  had  been  left 

open.  Bern  must  be  gone — he  had  gone  away  from  W 

on  every  possible  occasion,  and  the  town  time  after  time  had 
been  thrown  into  confusion  by  the  hue  and  cry,  "  Bern  has 
escaped!  come  to  the  rescue  !" 

Had  I  any  hope  ?  would  he  be  more  likely  to  stay  now 
than  when  snow  was  on  the  ground  ?  He  had  gone  1  My 
eyes  were  too  dim  with  tears  to  search  for  him.  I  called  with 
fearful  voice:  "Bern!  Bern!  where  are  you,  my  bird?"  A 
soft  chirp,  and  Bern  hopped  from  the  perch  he  had  made, 
and  looked  so  confidingly  at  me  and  kissed  me  so  prettily, 
that  I  felt  quite  assured  that  he  would  never  leave  me.  Yet 
he  often  after  teased  me  by  hiding  when  I  went  away,  as  if 
he  enjoyed,  coquettishly,  the  pain  he  gave  me. 

He  now  refused  to  allow  anybody  to  caress  him  except  us, 
and  seemed  to  imagine  that  he  was  sent  to  be  my  especial 
protector.  One  day,  early  in  the  spring,  we  had  been  walk- 


282  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIRDS. 

ing  in  the  fields  and  had  caught  from  the  grass  some  frag- 
ments of  burr.  These  "W was  brushing  off  from  my 

dress,  when  we  were  attracted  by  a  singular  hissing  sound, 
resembling  that  made  by  a  snake.  We  turned,  Bern  stood 
upon  a  stick  of  fire-wood,  one  of  several  which  lay  in  the 
corner,  his  body  straightened  almost  horizontally  with  the 
stick,  his  feathers  erect  on  his  whole  body,  the  wings  droop- 
ing below  his  feet,  his  eyes  distended  and  glistening  with 
the  fire  and  animosity  of  a  snake,  the  bill  turned  slightly 
upward  and  partially  open,  while  the  hissing  continued, 
increasing  in  vehemence  with  every  movement  made  by 

W .     If  he  approached  him  with  his  hand,  Bern  would 

dart  at  it  and  peck  at  it  with  the  greatest  violence,  and  seemed 

to  think  W had  not  only  caused  me  to  absent  myself 

from  him,  but  had  now  become  my  foe,  consequently  he  must 

protect  me.     Ever  after,  he  treated  W with  the  most 

malignant  expressions  of  dislike,  never  permitting  him  to 
touch  me  in  any  possible  way.  Yet  he  afterwards,  when 

our  friend  J.  W.  F visited  as,  exhibited  towards  him  all 

the  confidential  affection  with  which  he  treated  us — making 
it  a  point  to  visit  him  in  his  room  every  morning,  to  inspect 
his  toilet,  and  going  to  sleep  on  his  shoulder  or  head  at  night. 
But  Bern  became  too  human,  his  little  body  could  not  be 
expected  long  to  enshroud  the  soul  which  had  been  develop- 
ing in  him.  His  eye  had  grown  too  large,  and  his  intelli- 
gence fearful.  He  had  to  suffer  too  much  as  men  do,  and  we 
loved  him  too  much.  "Who  could  have  resisted  him  ?  Some- 
times, when  I  grew  sick  or  sad,  and  would  throw  myself  on 
a  lounge  and  weep  childishly,  as  I  will  sometimes,  then  my 
poor  Bern  would  come  to  me  and  peck  gently  at  my  fingers, 
gradually  increasing  the  force  of  his  blow  until  I  noticed  and 
spoke  to  him.  One  day  I  would  not  speak  to  him — his 
efforts  were  all  unheeded — I  would  not  be  roused.  His  dis- 
tress was  pitiable,  his  rage  unbounded;  he  imagined  that 
something  behind  me  was  injuring  me,  he  scolded  and  beat 
the  cushions  with  his  wings  and  bill ;  he  caressed  me  by 


"GENERAL  BEM."  283 

gently  pecking  my  face  and  hands,  and  tried  to  make  me 
speak  by  tugging  at  my  dress  ;  he  sang  to  me  a  meek,  loving 
song,  so  softly  in  my  ear,  as  he  sat  on  my  shoulder,  that  I 
could  not  wickedly  resist  the  good  angel — my  precious  Bern ! 

There  was  yet  another  charming  trait  of  our  pet  which  I 
must  mention.  He  was,  of  course,  always  astir  very  early 
in  the  morning,  and  then,  after  flitting  about  the  room  impa- 
tiently for  some  time,  he  would  alight  upon  one  or  the  other 
of  our  foreheads,  and  begin  to  peck  at  our  eye-lashes  and 
lids  until  he  had  succeeded  in  waking  us  both  fully,  then  he 
would  dart  away  and  commence  singing  in  great  glee.  He 
had  grown  tired  of  loneliness,  and  had  no  toleration  for  the 
thought  of  wasting  his  sweetness ! 

His  faith  in  our  friendship  was  so  charming.  One  night 
Mr.  Webber  was  sitting  at  the  window,  I  on  my  knees,  gaz- 
ing out  into  the  gathering  twilight ;  Bern  forsook  his  ordinary 
perch  for  the  night,  and  alit  upon  my  shoulder,  nestling 
closer  and  closer  to  my  cheek,  until  his  warm  breast  and 
throat  were  pressed  close  to  my  cheek.  How  we  loved  the 
dear  little  fellow  I  Oh,  to  think  that  I  should  have  lost  my 
sweet  pet  the  very  next  day.  That,  that  was  to  be  his  last  ca- 
ress !  My  heart  feels  very  sad  and  lonely  when  I  recall  that 
night — when  I  remember  the  last  farewell  of  my  pet  Bern ! 

The  next  morning  I  went  from  my  room  into  another — 
the  door  was  left  open — Bern  followed  in  search — became 
finally  alarmed,  and  darted  from  an  upper  window  into  the 
wilderness  of  leaves  below.  He  found  his  way  back,  and 
would  have  been  my  own  again,  but  a  wicked  woman  who 
had  less  soul  than  a  wild  cat-bird,  startled  him  again  and 
again,  until,  panic-stricken,  he  fled.  That  evening  came  a  ter- 
rible storm,  and  my  poor,  poor  Bern  never  returned. 

I  leave  this  "  ower  true  tale  "  to  tell  for  itself  the  story  of 
this  branch  of  the  illustrious  family  of  the  Turdinae,  as  it 
appears  when  so  strangely  humanized  by  being  thrown  into 
intimate  relations  to  the  higher  spiritualities  of  our  race. 


284  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIKDS. 

Wilson  and  Audubon  have  both  some  touching  passages, 
which  go  so  strikingly  to  illustrate  the  exceeding  amiability 
and  sympathetic  tenderness  of  this  most  gentle  but  perse- 
cuted creature,  that  I  cannot  refrain  from  giving  them  as  a 
plea  on  its  behalf. 

Wilson  says :  "  In  passing  through  the  woods  in  summer, 
I  have  sometimes  amused  myself  with  imitating  the  violent 
chirping  or  squeaking  of  young  birds,  in  order  to  observe 
what  different  species  were  around — for  such  sounds,  at  such 
a  season,  in  the  woods,  are  no  less  alarming  to  the  feathered 
tenants  of  the  bushes,  than  the  cry  of  fire  or  murder  in  the 
streets  is  to  the  inhabitants  of  a  large  and  populous  city. 

"  On  such  occasions  of  alarm  and  consternation,  the  cat-bird 
is  the  first  to  make  his  appearance,  not  singly,  but  sometimes 
half-a-dozen  at  a  time,  flying  from  different  quarters  to  the 
spot.  At  this  time,  those  who  are  disposed  to  play  with  his 
feelings  may  almost  throw  him  into  fits,  his  emotion  and  agi- 
tation are  so  great  at  the  distressing  cries  of  what  he  supposes 
to  be  his  suffering  young. 

"  Other  birds  are  variously  affected,  but  none  show  symp- 
toms of  such  extreme  suffering.  He  hurries  backwards  and 
forwards,  with  hanging  wings  and  open  mouth,  calling  out 
louder  and  faster,  and  actually  screaming  with  distress,  till 
he  appears  hoarse  with  his  exertions.  He  attempts  no  offen- 
sive means,  but  he  bewails,  he  implores  in  the  most  pathetic 
terms  with  which  nature  has  supplied  him,  and  with  an  agony 
of  feeling  which  is  truly  affecting.  Every  feathered  neigh- 
bor within  hearing  hastens  to  the  place,  to  learn  tLe  cause 
of  the  alarm,  peeping  about  with  looks  of  consternation  and 
sympathy.  But  their  own  powerful  parental  duties  and  do- 
mestic concerns  soon  oblige  each  to  withdraw.  At  other 
seasons,  the  most  perfect  imitations  have  no  effect  whatever 
upon  him." 

Wilson,  also,  in  a  note  from  Mr.  Bartram,  gives  a  fine  in- 
stance of  the  courage  of  the  cat-bird  in  defending  its  nest, 
and  even  the  very  neighborhood  thereof.  I  have  witnessed 


"GENERAL  BEM."  285 

many  such  instances  of  its  devoted  valor,  in  battling  with 
snakes  and  cats. 

"  Yesterday,"  says  Mr.  Bartram,  "  I  observed  a  conflict  or 
contest  between  a  cat-bird  and  a  snake.  It  took  place  in  a 
gravel  walk  in  the  garden,  near  a  dry  wall  of  stone.  I  was 
within  a  few  yards  of  the  combatants.  The  bird  pounced  or 
darted  upon  the  snake,  snapping  his  bill ;  the  snake  would 
then  draw  himself  quickly  into  a  coil,  ready  for  a  blow,  but 
the  bird  would  cautiously  circumvent  him  at  a  little  distance, 
now  and  then  running  up  to  and  snapping  at  him,  but  keep- 
ing at  a  sufficient  distance  to  avoid  a  blow.  After  some 
minutes  it  became  a  running  fight,  the  snake  retreating,  and 
at  last  he  took  shelter  in  the  wall.  The  cat-bird  had  young 
ones  in  the  bushes  near  the  field  of  battle." 

Audubon  also  bears  ample  testimony  to  the  unhesitating 
self-devotion  of  this  charming  little  songster,  when  once  its 
sympathies  have  been  aroused,  as  well  as  to  the  attractive 
character  of  its  song,  and  its  sagacious  estimate  of  the  mo- 
tives and  character  of  those  who  approach  its  nest : 

"  No  sooner  has  the  cat-bird  made  its  appearance  in  the 
country  of  its  choice,  than  its  song  is  heard  from  the  topmost 
branches  of  the  trees  around,  in  the  dawn  of  the  morning. 
This  song  Is  a  compound  of  many  of  the  gentler  trills  and 
sweet  modulations  of  our  various  woodland  choristers,  de- 
livered with  apparent  caution,  and  with  all  the  attention  and 
softness  necessary  to  enable  the  performer  to  please  the  ear 
of  his  mate.  Each  cadence  passes  on  without  faltering,  and 
if  you  are  acquainted  with  the  songs  of  the  birds  he  so  sweetly 
imitates,  you  are  sure  to  recognize  the  manner  of  the  differ- 
ent species.  "When  the  warmth  of  his  loving  bosom  engages 
him  to  make  choice  of  the  notes  of  our  best  songsters,  he 
brings  forth  sounds  as  mellow  and  as  powerful  as  those  of 
the  thrasher  and  mocking  bird.  These  medleys,  when  heard 
in  the  calm  and  balmy  hours  of  retiring  day,  always  seem  to 
possess  a  double  power,  and  he  must  have  a  dull  ear  indeed. 


286  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIEDS. 

and  little  relish  for  the  simple  melodies  of  nature,  who  can 
listen  to  them  without  delight. 

"  The  manners  of  this  species  are  lively,  and  at  intervals 
border  on  the  grotesque.  It  is  extremely  sensitive,  and  will 
follow  an  intruder  to  a  considerable  distance,  wailing  and 
mewing  as  it  passes  from  one  tree  to  another,  its  tail  now 
jerked  and  thrown  from  side  to  side,  its  wings  drooping  and 
its  breast  deeply  inclined.  On  such  occasions  it  would  fain 
peck  at  your  hand ;  but  these  exhibitions  of  irritated  feeling 
seldom  take  place  after  the  young  are  sufficiently  grown  to 
be  able  to  take  care  of  themselves.  In  some  instances,  I 
have  known  this  bird  to  recognize  at  once  its  friend  from  its 
foe,  and  to  suffer  the  former  even  to  handle  the  treasure  de- 
posited in  its  nest,  with  all  the  marked  assurance  of  the 
knowledge  it  possessed  of  its  safety  ;  when,  on  the  contrary, 
the  latter  had  to  bear  all  its  anger.  The  sight  of  a  dog  sel- 
dom irritates  it,  while  a  single  glance  at  the  wily  cat  excites 
the  most  painful  paroxysms  of  alarm.  It  never  neglects  to 
attack  a  snake  with  fury,  although  it  often  happens  that  it 
becomes  the  sufferer  for  its  temerity." 

Now  if  any  one  who  reads  all  that  we  have  already  given 
in  its  behalf,  still  feels  his  or  her  sympathies  untouched  in 
favor  of  our  loving  and  heroic  Cat-Bird,  we  would,  to  such, 
make  one  other  last  appeal  in  a  short  passage  more  from  Au- 
dubon.  Those  who  can  resist  such  traits  as  we  find  here  de- 
picted, must  weep  hailstones  for  tears,  if  they  ever  do  weep. 

"The  attachment  which  the  cat-bird  shows  towards  its 
eggs  or  young,  is  affecting.  It  even  possesses  a  humanity, 
or  rather  a  generosity  and  gentleness  worthy  of  being  more 
elevated  in  the  scale  of  nature.  It  has  been  known  to  nurse, 
feed  and  raise  the  young  of  other  species,  for  which  no  room 
could  be  afforded  in  their  nests.  It  will  sit  on  its  eggs  after 
the  nest  has  been  displaced,  or  even  after  it  has  been  carried 
from  one  bush  to  another." 


CHAPTER    XIII. 

WASHINGTON  EAGLE  AND  FISH  HAWK 

WE  must  premise  in  speaking  of  the  "  Bird  of  Washing- 
ton," that  the  existence  of  any  such  distinct  species,  as  to 
entitle  it  to  a  new  name,  is  still  regarded  by  the  majority  of 
American  naturalists,  at  least,  as  hypothetical.  Indeed,  the 
savans  of  the  Academy  of  Natural  Sciences  of  Philadelphia 
utterly  repudiate  the  existence,  of  any  such  species,  persisting 
that  it  is  merely  the  great  Cinerious,  or  Sea-Eagle,  which 
Mr.  Audubon  has  mistaken  for  a  new  variety.  This  bird, 
Falco  Albicilla,  even  Mr.  Audubon  acknowledges  to  bear  so 
strong  a  resemblance  to  the  Bird  of  Washington,  Falco 
Washingtoniis,  as  to  be  easily  confounded  with  it  by  a  super- 
ficial observer.  Now  the  Philadelphia  Academicians  assert 
that  the  specimen  referred  to  by  Audubon  as  having  been 
deposited  for  the  Washington  Eagle,  by  Dr.  Kichard  Harlan,  in 
their  collection,  is  nothing  more  nor  less  than  a  very  large  Sea- 
Eagle,  and  that  the  drawing  by  Audubon  himself  is  clearly 
of  a  bird  of  the  same  species.  Here  doctors  disagree,  to  be 
sure,  and  I  am  not  entirely  certain  that  the  Philadelphia^ 
are  not  in  some  degree  right ;  but  that  there  is  a  new  eagle, 
which  has  not  yet  been  figured,  or  described,  peculiar  to  the 
North  American  continent,  I  am  perfectly  sure,  and  that  this 
eagle  is  the  one  noticed  by  Mr.  Audubon,  who  saw  it  several 
times  on  the  wing,  I  am  equally  certain,  even  although  the 
particular  bird  figured  by  him  may  have  been  a  Sea-Eagle. 
In  a  word,  though  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  he  several 


288  WILD   SCENES  AND   SONG  BIKDS. 

times  saw  a  new  eagle  on  the  wing,  there  may  be  some  doubt 
about  the  particular  specimen  shot  by  him  at  Henderson  be- 
ing the  same  bird.  I  shall  first,  although  having  previously 
furnished  a  portion  of  these  extracts  in  my  first  volume,  give 
his  description  of  the  discovery  by  him  of  the  Washington 
Eagle,  feeling  myself  fully  justified  by  the  importance  of  the 
subject,  in  quoting  them  entire,  before  I  proceed  to  explain 
my  reasons  for  the  seemingly  paradoxical  opinion  given 
here. 

Mr.  Audubon  says : 

"  It  was  in  the  month  of  February,  1814,  that  I  obtained 
the  first  sight  of  this  noble  bird,  and  never  shall  I  forget  the 
delight  which  it  gave  me.  Not  even  Herschel,  when  he  dis- 
covered the  planet  which  bears  his  name,  could  have  ex- 
perienced more  rapturous  feelings.  We  were  on  a  trading 
voyage,  ascending  the  Upper  Mississippi.  The  keen  wintry 
blasts  whistled  around  us,  and  the  cold  from  which  I  suffered 
had,  in  a  great  degree,  extinguished  the  deep  interest  which, 
kt  other  seasons,  this  magnificent  sight  has  been  wont  to 
wake  in  me.  I  lay  stretched  beside  our  patroon.  The  safety 
of  the  cargo  was  forgotten,  and  the  only  thing  that  called  my 
attention  was  the  multitude  of  ducks  of  different  species,  ac- 
companied by  vast  flocks  of  swans,  which  from  time  to  time 
passed  us.  My  patroon,  a  Canadian,  had  been  years  en- 
gaged in  the  fur  trade.  He  was  a  man  of  much  intelligence .; 
and,  perceiving  that  these  birds  had  engaged  my  curiosity, 
seemed  anxious  to  find  some  new  object  to  divert  me.  An 
eagle  flew  over  us.  '  How  fortunate  !'  he  exclaimed,  '  this 
is  what  I  could  have  wished.  Look,  sir,  the  Great  Eagle, 
and  the  only  one  I  have  seen  since  I  left  the  lakes.'  I  was 
instantly  on  my  feet,  and  having  observed  it  attentively, 
concluded,  as  I  lost  it  in  the  distance,  that  it  was  a  species 
quite  new  to  me.  My  patroon  assured  me  that  such  birds 
were  indeed  rare ;  that  they  sometimes  followed  the  hunters, 
to  feed  on  the  entrails  of  the  animals  which  they  had  killed 
when  the  lakes  were  frozen  over ;  but  that  when  the  lakes 


WASHINGTON   EAGLE   AND   FISH-HAWK.  289 

were  open,  they  would  dive  in  the  day-time  after  fish,  and 
snatch  them  up  in  the  manner  of  the  fish-hawk ;  and  that 
they  roosted  generally  on  the  shelves  of  the  rocks,  where 
they  built  their  nests,  of  which  he  had  discovered  several  by 
the  quantity  of  white  dung  scattered  below. 

u  Convinced  that  the  bird  was  unknown  to  naturalists,  I 
felt  particularly  anxious  to  learn  its  habits,  and  to  discover 
in  what  particulars  it  differed  from  the  rest  of  its  genus.  My 
next  meeting  with  this  bird  was  a  few  years  afterward, 
whilst  engaged  in  collecting  cray-fish  on  one  of  those  flats 
which  border  and  divide  Green  river,  in  Kentucky,  near 
its  junction  with  the  Ohio.  The  river  is  there  bordered  by 
a  range  of  high  cliffs,  which,  for  some  distance,  follow  its 
windings.  I  observed  on  the  rocks,  which,  at  that  place, 
are  nearly  perpendicular,  a  quantity  of  white  ordure,  which 
I  attributed  to  owls,  that  might  have  resorted  thither.  I 
mentioned  the  circumstance  to  my  companions,  when  one  of 
them,  who  lived  within  a  mile  and  a  half  of  the  place,  told 
me  it  was  from  the  nest  of  the  Brown  Eagle,  meaning  the 
White-headed  Eagle  (Falco  Leucocephalus),  in  its  immature 
state.  I  assured  him  this  could  not  be,  and  remarked,  that 
neither  the  old  nor  the  young  birds  of  that  species  ever  build 
in  such  places,  but  always  in  trees.  Although  he  could  not 
answer  my  objection,  he  stoutly  maintained  that  a  Brown 
Eagle  of  some  kind,  above  the  usual  size,  had  built  there ; 
and  added,  that  he  had  espied  the  nest  some  days  before, 
and  had  seen  one  of  the  old  birds  dive  and  catch  a  fish.  • 
This  he  thought  strange,  having,  till  then,  always  observed 
that  both  Brown  Eagles  and  Bald  Eagles  procured  this  kind 
of  food  by  robbing  the  fish-hawks.  He  said,  that  if  I  felt 
particularly  anxious  to  know  what  nest  it  was,  I  might  soon 
satisfy  myself,  as  the  old  birds  would  come  and  feed  their 
young  with  fish,  for  he  had  seen  them  do  so  before. 

"  In  high  expectation,  I  seated  myself  about  a  hundred 
yards  from  the  foot  of  the  rock.  Never  did  time  pass  more 
slowly.  I  could  not  help  betraying  the  most  impatient 

19 


290  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIEDS. 

curiosity,  for  my  hopes  whispered  it  was  a  Sea  Eagle's  nest. 
Two  long  hours  elapsed  before  the  old  bird  made  his  appear- 
ance, which  was  announced  to  us  by  the  loud  hissings  of  the 
two  young  ones,  which  crawled  to  the  extremity  of  the  hole 
to  receive  a  fine  fish.  I  had  a  perfect  view  of  this  noble 
bird  as  he  held  himself  to  the  edging  rock,  hanging  like  the 
barn  bank,  or  social  swallow,  his  tail  spread,  and  his  wings 
partly  so.  I  trembled  lest  a  word  should  escape  my  com- 
panions. The  slightest  murmur  had  been  treason  from  them. 
They  entered  into  my  feelings,  and,  though  little  interested, 
gazed  with  me.  In  a  few  minutes  the  other  parent  joined 
her  mate ;  and,  from  the  difference  in  size  (the  female  of 
rapacious  birds  being  much  larger),  we  knew  this  to  be  the 
mother  bird.  She  also  brought  a  fish ;  but  more  cautious 
than  her  mate,  she  glanced  her  quick  and  piercing  eye 
around,  and  instantly  perceived  that  her  abode  had  been  dis- 
covered. She  dropped  her  prey,  with  a  loud  shriek  com- 
municated the  alarm  to  the  male,  and,  hovering  with  him 
over  our  heads,  kept  up  a  growling  cry,  to  intimidate  us 
from  our  suspected  design.  This  watchful  solicitude  I  have 
ever  found  peculiar  to  the  female — must  I  be  understood  to 
speak  only  of  birds  ? 

"  The  young  having  concealed  themselves,  we  went  and 
picked  up  the  fish  which  the  mother  had  let  fall.  It  was  a 
white  perch,  weighing  about  five  and  a  half  pounds.  The 
upper  part  of  the  head  was  broken  in,  and  the  back  torn  by 
the  talons  of  the  eagle.  We  had  plainly  seen  her  bearing  it 
in  the  manner  of  the  fish-hawk. 

"  This  day's  sport  being  at  an  end,  we  journeyed  home- 
ward, we  agreed  to  return  the  next  morning,  with  the  view 
of  obtaining  both  the  old  and  young  birds  ;  but  rainy  and 
tempestuous  weather  setting  in,  it  became  necessary  to  defer 
the  expedition  till  the  third  day  following,  when,  with  guns 
and  men  all  in  readiness,  we  reached  the  rock.  Some  post- 
ed themselves  at  the  foot,  others  upon  it,  but  in  vain.  We 
passed  the  entire  day  without  either  seeing  or  hearing  an 


WASHINGTON  EAGLE  AND  FISH-HAWK.  .      291 

eagle,  the  sagacious  birds,  no  doubt,  having  anticipated  an 
invasion,  and  removed  their  young  to  new  quarters. 

"  I  come  at  last  to  the  day  which  I  had  so  often  and  so 
ardently  desired.  Two  years  had  gone  by  since  the  dis- 
covery of  the  nest,  in  fruitless  excursions ;  but  my  wishes 
were  no  longer  to  remain  ungratified.  In  returning  from 
the  little  village  of  Henderson,  to  the  house  of  Dr.  Rankin, 
about  a  mile  distant,  I  saw  an  eagle  rise  from  a  small  in- 
closure,  not  a  hundred  yards  before  me,  where  the  doctor 
had,  a  few  days  before,  slaughtered  some  hogs,  and  alight 
upon  a  low  tree  branching  over  the  road.  I  prepared  my 
double-barrelled  piece,  which  I  constantly  carry,  and  went 
slowly  and  cautiously  toward  him.  Quite  fearlessly  he 
awaited  my  approach,  looking  on  me  with  undaunted  eye. 
I  fired,  and  he  fell.  Before  I  reached  him  he  was  dead. 
With  what  delight  did  I  survey  the  magnificent  bird  !  Had 
the  finest  salmon  ever  pleased  him,  as  he  did  me  ?  Never. 
I  ran  and  presented  him  to  my  friend  with  a  pride  which 
they  alone  feel  who,  like  me,  have  devoted  themselves  from 
their  earliest  childhood  to  such  persuits,  and  who  have  de- 
rived from  them  their  first  pleasures.  To  others,  I  must 
seem  to  l  prattle  out  of  fashion.'  The  doctor,  who  was  an 
experienced  hunter,  examined  the  bird  with  much  satisfac- 
tion, and  frankly  acknowledged  he  had  never  before  seen  or 
heard  of  it. 

"  The  name  which  I  have  chosen  for  this  new  species  of 
eagle — the  Bird  of  Washington — may,  by  some,  be  con- 
sidered as  preposterous  and  unfit ;  but  as  it  is,  indisputably, 
the  noblest  bird  of  its  genus  that  has  yet  been  discovered 
in  the  United  States,  I  trust  I  shall  be  allowed  to  honor  it 
with  the  name  of  one  yet  nobler,  who  was  the  savior  of  his 
country,  and  whose  name  will  ever  be  dear  to  it.  To  those 
who  may  be  curious  to  know  my  reasons,  I  can  only  say 
that,  as  the  new  world  gave  me  birth  and  liberty,  the  great 
man  who  insured  its  independence  is  next  my  heart.  He 
had  a  nobility  of  mind  and  a  generosity  of  soul,  such  as  are 


292  WILD   SCENES  AND  SONG-BIRDS. 

seldom  possessed.  He  was  brave,  so  is  the  eagle  ;  like  it,  too, 
he  was  the  terror  of  his  foes ;  and  his  fame,  extending  from 
pole  to  pole,  resembles  the  majestic  soaring  of  the  mightiest 
of  the  feathered  tribe  If  America  has  reason  to  be  proud 
of  her  Washington,  so  has  she  to  be  proud  of  her  great 
eagle. 

"  In  the  month  of  January  following,  I  saw  a  pair  of  these 
eagles  flying  over  the  falls  of  the  Ohio,  one  in  pursuit  of  the 
other.  The  next  day  I  saw  them  again.  The  female  had 
relaxed  her  severity,  and  laid  aside  her  coyness,  and  to  a 
favorite  tree  they  continually  resorted.  I  pursued  them  un- 
successfully for  several  days,  when  they  forsook  the  place. 

"  The  flight  of  this  bird  is  very  different  from  that  of  the 
"White-headed  Eagle.  The  former  encircles  a  greater  space 
whilst  sailing,  keeps  nearer  to  the  land  and  the  surface  of  the 
water,  and  when  about  to  dive  for  fish,  falls  in  a  spiral  man- 
ner, as  if  with  the  intention  of  checking  any  retreating  move- 
ment which  its  prey  might  attempt,  darting  upon  it  only 
when  a  few  "yards  distant.  The  Fish-Hawk  often  does  the 
same.  When  rising  with  a  fish,  the  Bird  of  Washington  flies 
to  a  considerable  distance,  forming,  in  its  line  of  course,  a 
very  acute  angle  with  the  surface  line  of  the  water.  My  last 
opportunity  of  seeing  this  bird,  was  on  the  loth  of  Novem- 
ber, 1821,  a  few  miles  above  the  mouth  of  the  Ohio,  when 
two  passed  over  our  boat,  moving  down  the  river  with  a 
gentle  motion.  In  a  letter  from  a  kind  relative,  Mr.  W. 
Bakewell,  dated  "  Falls  of  the  Ohio,  July,  1819,"  and  con- 
taining particulars  relative  to  the  swallow-tailed  hawk  (Falco 
furcatus),  that  gentleman  says :  '  Yesterday,  for  the  first  time, 
I  had  an  opportunity  of  viewing  one  of  these  magnificent 
birds,  which  you  call  the  Sea  Eagle,  as  it  passed  low  over 
me,  whilst  fishing.  I  shall  be  really  glad  when  I  can  again 
have  the  pleasure  of  seeing  your  drawing  of  it.'  " 

I  can  mention  but  one  instance  in  my  life — and  it  has  been 
no  inactive  one — in  which  I  have  seen  what  I  knew  to  be 
this  or  a  similar  new  species.  Nearly  fifteen  years,  ago  when 


WASHINGTON  EAGLE  AND  FISH-HAWK.  293 

standing  on  the  deck  of  a  steamer,  in  which  I  was  ascending 
the  Upper  Mississippi,  beyond  Galena,  I  saw  pass  over  us, 
flying  very  low,  an  immense  eagle  which  I  instantly  new  to 
be  a  new  bird,  and  conjectured  must  be  the  Bird  of  Washing- 
ton'— but  conjectures  won't  do  in  science.  I  distinctly  re- 
member the  strangeness  of  the  sensation — the  wild  thrill — 
half  awe  and  wonder — with  which  I  looked  up  when  the 
strange  bird  stirred  the  dim  evening  with  the  rush  of  mighty 
pinions  just  above  me.  With  what  an  eager  eye  I  followed 
up  its  slow  and  far  recession — with  what  tumultuous  images 
of  fierce  exulting  freedom,  boundless  wilds  and  hidden  mira- 
cles of  strength  and  beauty,  I  was  filled !  0,  the  power  and 
splendor  of  the  world  that  weareth  wings  !  How  should  our 
tyrannous  will  have  known  the  infinite  and  conquered  space, 
but  that  these  winged  eagles  taught  us — how  tamed  the  ele- 
ments, but  that  storm-cleaving  pinions  learned  us  first 
defiance  ? 

But  this  is  scarcely  to  the  point  of  our  narrative.  I  have 
fortunately  seen  the  new  bird  vis-a-vis,  within  a  few  months, 
and  now  know  beyond  conjecture  that  it  does  exist.  During 
a  short  stay  in  Louisville,  in  February  of  this  year,  '53, 1  was 
informed  by  some  kind  friends  of  mine,  of  the  existence  of 
a  large  specimen  of  eagles  in  the  neighborhood — at  Cave-Hill 
Cemetery — which  had  been  raised  from  a  fledging  by  a  gen- 
tleman who  has  charge  of  the  grounds.  My  friends  asserted 
confidently  that  it  was  the  Bird  of  Washington,  and  I,  with 
great  eagerness,  immediately  proposed  a  visit  to  the  cemetery. 
A  small  party  of  us  accordingly  rode  out  the  next  morning. 
We  were  courteously  received  by  the  gentleman  owning  the 
bird,  and  forthwith  conducted  to  its  barred  prison.  There  I 
found  perched,  to  my  great  delight,  a  magnificent  eagle,  of 
greater  size  than  any  with  which  I  was  familiar,  in  full  and 
perfect  health  and  splendid  plumage.  The  owner  assured 
me  that  he  had  held  the  bird  in  his  possession  for  five  years. 

Having  heard  through  some  correspondent  of  his,  that 
there  was  a  pair  of  large  Fishing  Eagles  frequenting  certain 


294  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIKDS. 

bluffs  along  the  shores  of  Lake  Huron,  he  wrote  to  him  im- 
mediately to  endeavor  to  find  its  eyrie  and  send  him  one  of 
the  young. 

His  friend  had  been  successful,  and  sent  him  this  young 
bird  ;  stating,  at  the  same  time,  that  the  location  of  the  nest 
and  the  general  habits  of  the  old  birds,  entirely  corresponded 
with  the  description  Mr.  Audubon  had  given  of  his  dis- 
covery and  observation  of  the  nest  and  habits  of  the  Bird 
of  Washington,  in  the  cliffs  of  Green  River,  Kentucky. 

I  had  no  copy  of  Audubon's  plate  at  hand,  to  compare  the 
drawing  with  the  living  bird ;  but  perceiving  surely  that  it 
was  entirely  new,  I  concluded  hastily  that  it  must  be  the 
veritable  " Falco  Washingtonii" — especially  as  its  owner 
stated  that  he  had  several  times  had  this  specimen  compared 
with  Audubon's  original  plate,  and  found  its  markings  to 
agree  fully.  Still  I  had  some  little  doubt,  fearing  that  my 
memory  might  have  deceived  me,  and  therefore  requested 
my  wife — as  the  period  of  our  stay  had  now  nearly  closed — 
to  at  least  take  an  accurate  sketch  of  the  head  of  this  fine 
specimen  in  pencil.  She  did  so,  and  I  was  particularly  careful 
to  note  the  proportions.  I  know  these  to  be  perfectly  accu- 
rate, and  on  comparing  them  when  I  returned  to  Philadelphia, 
both  with  the  drawing  of  Audubon  and  the  specimens  in  the 
Academy  of  Natural  Sciences,  so  much  talked  of,  I  became  con- 
vinced that  this  was  a  different  species  from  either,  and  that, 
too,  in  characteristics  admitting  of  no  close  correspondence. 

In  Audubon's  plate  the  correspondence  is  not  accurate  by 
any  means,  in  coloring  of  the  plumage  in  the  first  place — and 
then  the  outlines  of  the  head  and  form  of  the  beak  are  in 
too  many  respects  dissimilar  to  admit  of  the  possibility  of  so 
accurate  an  artist  having  been  guilty  of  such  omissions  in  a 
subject  so  important  to  his  reputation.  He  had  clearly  seen 
the  new  bird  on  the  wing,  and  not  having  as  yet  chanced  to 
meet  with  the  great  Cinerious  Eagle  in  his  wanderings,  he 
has  unguardedly  confounded  it  with  the  new  bird  which  he 
had  seen  before  on  the  wing,  and  which  he  meant  to  name 


WASHINGTON  EAGLE  AND  FISH-HAWK.  295 

"  The  Bird  of  Washington  " — and  which  beside  has  quite  as 
positive  existence  as  any  winged  aerial  monarch  of  them  all. 
Though  Audubon  may  have  failed  in  figuring  the  right  sub- 
ject— still  the  observation  of  this  new  variety — ay,  and  its 
discovery,  ever  belongs  to  him,  the  Eagle-eyed  !  He  knew 
his  mates,  though  they  were  strangers  fleeting  and  swift  as 
broadest  wings  could  make  them  1  He  may  have  erred,  but 
then  the  great  Sea  Eagle  is  a  bird  of  mighty  scope  of  wing — 
a  continent  to  him  is  but  a  narrow  Isthmus  of  full  flight. 
He  drops  here  and  there  as  at  "mine  inn"  along  the  zones, 
and  finds  new  hemispheres  to  perch  ! 

It  surely  may  be  reconciled  to  ordinary  coincidences  of 
this  class  when  we  have  the  singular  fact  that  the  "  Jer 
Falcon,"  which  is  well  known  as  a  habitant  of  the  Northern 
and  Polar  regions  of  our  Continent,  was  shot  within  a  few 
miles  of  Louisville,  Kentucky,  a  year  or  two  since.  I  had  an 
opportunity  of  examining  the  splendid  specimen  of  this 
bird,  which  had  been  carefully  stuffed  and  mounted,  and 
found  it  to  be  much  finer  than  any  I  had  yet  seen  in  the 
Academies  and  Museums  of  the  North  and  East.  How  came 
it  there  ?  What  storm  had  been  resistless  enough  to  drift  its 
unconquerable  wings  thus  far  inland  ?  It  was  one  of  Nature's 
mysteries.  But  there  it  was — the  veritable  Jer  Falcon,  with 
its  broad  breast  and  swallow-like  wings — its  keen  beak  and 
powerful  claws  !  Some  tornado  must  have  caught  it  in  its 
gusts,  and  whirled  it,  dizzied  and  blind,  amidst  the  huge  tur- 
moil of  space — away !  away  in  baffled  battling  into  unfami- 
liar realms.  That  the  bird  was  both  weary  and  confounded 
was  evidenced  in  the  fact,  that  the  most  vigilant,  wary  and 
ferocious  of  all  the  falcons  could  be  approached  and  killed 
by  a  boy,  with  a  small  fowling-piece,  loaded  with  bird-shot. 

Could  the  great  Cinerious  Eagle,  shot  by  Mr.  Audubon, 
have  been,  too,  astray  ?  At  all  events,  the  bird  I  saw  is  not 
identical  with  Audubon's  Bird  of  Washington,  as  figured! 
Of  this  I  am  equally  certain,  as  he  supposed  himself  to  be  in 
the  figuring  and  identification  of  the  species,  and  hope  to 


296  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIKDS. 

give  in  iny  next  volume  of  the  Hunter  Naturalist,  a  correct 
figure,  under  the  artistic  hand  of  my  wife. 

We  have,  too,  a  great  Sea-Eagle,  which  nearly  agrees  in 
its  proportions  with  that  described  as  the  Bird  of  Washing- 
ton, and  which  inhabits  the  British  possessions  on  the  Pacific 
coast,  north  of  Oregon.  This  bird,  Haliaetus  pelagicus,  has 
been  figured  for  the  new  work  of  John  Cassin,  Esq.,  and 
will  appear  in  his  second  number.  This  work  is  supple- 
mentary to  that  of  Mr.  Audubon,  and  will  contain  the  latest 
discoveries  of  ornithological  species  since  his  publication. 
Mr.  Audubon  says  further,  in  relation  to  his  discovery : 

"  Whilst  in  Philadelphia,  about  twelve  months  ago,  I  had 
the  gratification  of  seeing  a  fine  specimen  of  this  eagle  at 
Mr.  Brano's  Museum.  It  was  a  male,  in  fine  plumage,  and 
beautifully  preserved.  I  wished  to  purchase  it,  with  a  view 
to  carry  it  to  Europe,  but  the  price  put  upon  it  was  above 
my  means. 

"My  excellent  friend,  Eichard  Harlan,  M.D.,  of  that  city, 
speaking  of  this  bird,  in  a  letter,  dated  "Philadelphia, 
August  19th,  1830,"  says,  "That  fine  specimen  of  the 
Washington  Eagle,  which  you  noticed  in  Brano's  Museum, 
is  at  present  in  my  possession.  I  have  deposited  it  in  the 
academy,  where  it  will  most  likely  remain."  I  saw  the 
specimen  alluded  to,  which,  as  far  as  I  could  observe,  agreed 
in  size  and  markings  exactly  with  my  drawing ;  to  which, 
however,  I  could  not  at  the  time  refer,  as  it  was,  with  the  whole 
of  my  collection,  deposited  in  the  British  Museum,  under 
the  care  of  my  ever  kind  and  esteemed  friend,  0.  Gr.  Chil- 
dren, Esq.,  of  that  Institution. 

"  The  glands,  containing  the  oil  used  for  the  purpose  of 
anointing  the  surface  of  the  plumage,  are  extremely  large. 
Their  contents  have  the  appearance  of  hog's  lard  which  had 
been  melted  and  become  rancid.  This  bird  makes  more 
copious  use  of  that  substance  than  the  White-headed  Eagle, 
or  any  of  the  tribe  to  which  it  belongs,  except  the  Fish- 
Hawk,  the  whole  plumage  looking,  upon  close  examination, 


WASHINGTON  EAGLE  AND  FISH-HAWK.  297 

as  if  it  had  received  a  general  coating  of  a  thin  dilution  of 
gum-arabic,  and  presenting  less  of  the  downy  gloss  exhibited 
in  the  upper  part  of  the  White-headed  Eagle's  plumage. 
The  male  bird  weighs  fourteen  and  a  half  pounds  avoirdupois, 
and  measures  three  feet  seven  inches  in  length,  and  ten  feet 
two  inches  in  extent." 

This  completes  Mr.  Audubon's  account  of  what  he  alwaj^s 
considered  his  greatest  discovery,  the  Bird  of  "Washington. 
We  remarked,  that  the  fact  of  its  being  a  discovery  at  all  has 
been  warmly  disputed  by  the  highest  American  authorities. 
The  name  is,  however,  too  good  a  one  to  be  lost ;  and  if  Mr. 
Audubon  has  made  a  mistake  in  figuring  the  wrong  bird,  he 
certainly  has  made  none  in  regard  to  the  fact  of  a  new 
species.  It  must  be  a  very  scarce  one  of  course,  as  speci- 
mens have  been  so  difficult  to  obtain.  He,  himself,  in  the 
long  years  of  wandering  which  made  up  the  sum  of  his 
vigilant  and  active  life,  met  with  only  one  which  it  proved 
possible  for  him  to  obtain,  though  he  mentions  several  in- 
stances of  its  having  been  seen  on  the  wing. 

The  Fish-hawk  or  Osprey  seems  to  be  most  naturally  re- 
garded as  the  transition  species  between  the  eagles,  the 
falcons  proper,  and  the  hawks.  Partaking,  as  it  does,  of 
many  of  the  leading  characteristics  of  these  groups,  it  is  yet 
clearly  entitled  to  a  separate  and  distinct  classification  as  the 
Osprey.  Indeed  the  dispute  concerning  the  separate  place 
and  absolute  identification  of  this  bird,  has,  from  the  earliest 
period  of  which  we  have  any  accounts  of  its  being  noticed, 
given  rise  to  an  infinite  series  of  humorous  complexities  be- 
tween the  sense  of  Cabinet  Naturalists,  ancient  and  more 
modern,  and  the  clear  demonstrations  of  the  practical  Field 
Naturalist  of  the  present  day.  Alexander  Wilson  has  set 
this  forth  with  such  admirable  tact  that  we  cannot  forbear 
quoting  him  here — though  it  not  the  less  illustrates  the  slow 
progress  of  science  towards  truth,  for  me  to  mention  that  the 
extract  occurs  in  an  article  upon  the  Sea-Eagle,  (Falco  Ossi- 
fragus,)  which  he  has  thus  classified,  yet  with  a  saving  ex- 


298  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIRDS. 

pression  of  doubt,  whether  it  may  not  still  prove  to  be  the 
young  of  the  Bald  Eagle,  (Falco  Leucocephalus,)  and  which 
strong  doubt  of  his  has  since  been  proven  beyond  question, 
to  have  suggested  the  truth.  Wilson  says  : 

"  We  were  disposed  after  the  manner  of  some,  to  sub- 
stitute, for  plain  matters  of  fact,  all  the  narratives,  conjec- 
tures and  fanciful  theories  of  travellers,  voyagers,  compilers, 
etc.,  relative  to  the  history  of  the  eagle ;  the  volumes  of  these 
writers,  from  Aristotle  down  to  his  admirer,  the  Count  de 
Buffon,  would  furnish  abundant  materials  for  this  purpose. 
But  the  author  of  the  present  work  feels  no  ambition  to  ex- 
cite surprise  and  astonishment  at  the  expense  of  truth,  or  to 
attempt  to  elevate  and  embellish  his  subject  beyond  the  plain 
realities  of  nature.  On  this  account  he  cannot  assent  to  the 
assertion,  however  eloquently  made  in  the  celebrated  parallel 
drawn  by  the  French  Naturalist  between  the  lion  and  the 
eagle,  viz. :  that  the  eagle,  like  the  lion,  *  disdains  the  pos- 
session of  that  property  which  is  not  the  fruit  of  his  own 
industry,  and  rejects,  with  contempt,  the  prey  which  is  not 
procured  by  his  own  exertions ;'  since  the  very  reverse  of 
this  is  the  case,  in  the  conduct  of  the  Bald  and  Sea-Eagle, 
who,  during  the  summer  months,  are  the  constant  robbers 
and  plunderers  of  the  Osprey  or  Fish-Hawk,  by  whose  indus- 
try alone  both  are  fed.  Nor  that,  '  though  famished  for  want 
of  prey,  he  disdains  to  feed  on  carrion  /'  since  we  have  our- 
selves seen  the  Bald  Eagle,  while  seated  on  the  dead  carcass 
of  a  horse,  keep  a  whole  flock  of  vultures  at  a  respectful 
distance,  until  he  has  fully  sated  his  own  appetite  The 
Count  has  also  taken  great  pains  to  expose  the  ridiculous 
opinion  of  Pliny,  who  conceived  that  the  Osprey s  formed 
no  separate  race,  and  that  they  proceeded  from  the  inter- 
mixture of  different  species  of  eagles,  the  young  of  which 
were  not  Ospreys,  only  sea  eagles :  '  which  sea  eagles]  says 
he,  t'breed  small  vultures,  which  engender  great  vultures,  that 
have  not  the  power  of  propagation.'1  But,  while  laboring  to 
confute  these  absurdities,  the  Count  himself  in  his  belief  on 


WASHINGTON  EAGLE   AND   FISH-HAWK.  299 

an  occasional  intercourse  between  the  Osprey  and  the  Sea- 
Eagle,  contradicts  all  actual  observation,  and  one  of  the 
most  common  and  fixed  laws  of  nature  ;  for  it  may  be  safely 
asserted,  that  there  is  no  habit  more  universal  among  the 
feathered  race,  in  their  natural  state,  than  that  chastity  of  at- 
tachment which  confines  the  amours  of  individuals  to  those 
of  their  own  species  only. 

"  That  perversion  of  nature,  produced  by  domestication, 
is  nothing  to  the  purpose.  In  no  instance  have  I  ever  ob- 
served the  slightest  appearance  of  a  contrary  conduct.  Even 
in  those  birds  which  never  build  a  nest  for  themselves,  nor 
hatch  their  young,  nor  even  pair,  but  live  in  a  state  of  gen- 
eral concubinage — such  as  the  cuckoo  of  the  old,  and  the 
caw-bunting  of  the  new  continent — there  is  no  instance  of  a 
deviation  from  this  striking  habit.  I  cannot,  therefore,  avoid 
considering  the  opinion  above  alluded  to,  that  '  the  male 
Osprey,  by  coupling  with  the  female  Sea-Eagle,  produces  sea 
eagles  ;  and  that  the  female  Osprey,  by  pairing  with  the  male 
Sea-Eagle  gives  birth  of  Osprey s,'  or  Fish-Hawks,  as  alto- 
gether unsupported  by  facts,  and  contradicted  by  the  con- 
stant and  universal  habits  of  the  whole  feathered  race,  in 
their  state  of  nature." 

Wilson  seems  to  have  made  the  same  mistake  in  regard  to 
Falco  Ossifragus,  his  sea-eagle,  that  Audubon  has  undoubtedly 
fallen  into  in  relation  to  Falco  Washingtonii  and  the  same 
bird.  Since,  as  I  remarked  in  my  last  paper,  the  specimen 
figured  by  him  as  a  specimen  of  the  new  bird,  is  so  nearly 
like  to  Falco  Albicilla,  as  to  leave  a  doubt  whether  he  has  not 
figured  a  fine  accidental  example  of  the  latter  for  a  new  and 
unnamed  bird  which  undoubtedly  does  exist,  but  the  swallow- 
like  wings  of  which,  not  to  speak  of  their  immense  exten- 
sion and  the  peculiar  beak  and  head,  renders  it  as  yet  a  com- 
paratively unknown  and  certainly  an  unfigured  species. 

But  however  it  may  be  in  regard  to  these  curious  discuss- 
ions, growing  out  of  the  different  experiences  and  sources  of 
information  at  the  command  of  individual  authors  belonging 


300  WILD   SCENES  AND  SONG-BIRDS. 

to  widely-separated  periods,  we  find  now  and  then  promulga- 
ted among  all  these  contradictions  a  particular  biography  of 
some  certain  species  or  individual  that  seems  to  constitute  a 
perfect  delineation  or  monograph,  which  so  far  as  immediate 
science  has  progressed,  cannot  be  for  the  time  transcended. 
Thus  it  is  with  Alexander  Wilson's  description  of  this  Fish- 
Hawk.  Taking  it  apart,  this  biography  constitutes  one  of  the 
noblest  features  of  his  whole  life-work,  though  so  mingled  as 
it  is  with  his  story  of  the  White-headed  Eagle,  it  yet  so  fully 
expresses  the  characteristics  of  both,  that  we  must  give  a 
scene  entire,  which  has  been  most  universally  admired.  It 
is  that  of  the  eagle  robbing  the  Fish -Hawk !  and  is  from  his 
paper  on  the  White-headed  Eagle : 

"  Elevated  on  the  high  dead  limb  of  some  gigantic  tree 
that  commands  a  wide  view  of  the  neighboring  shore  and 
ocean,  he  seems  calmly  to  contemplate  the  motions  of  the 
various  feathered  tribes,  that  pursue  their  busy  avocations  be- 
low ;  the  snow-white  gulls  slowly  winnowing  the  air ;  the 
busy  tringas  coursing  along  the  sands ;  trains  of  ducks 
streaming  over  the  surface — silent  and  watchful  cranes  intent 
and  wading ;  clamorous  crows,  and  all  the  winged  multitudes 
that  subsist  by  the  bounty  of  this  vast  liquid  magazine  of 
nature.  High  over  all  these  hovers  one,  whose  action  in- 
stantly arrests  his  whole  attention.  By  his  wide  curvature 
of  wing,  and  sudden  suspension  in  air,  he  knows  him  to  be 
the  Fish-Hawk,  settling  over  some  devoted  victim  of  the 
deep.  His  eye  kindles  at  the  sight,  and,  balancing  himself 
with  half-opened  wings  on  the  branch,  he  watches  the  result. 
Down,  rapid  as  an  arrow  from  heaven,  descends  the  distant 
object  of  his  attention,  the  roar  of  its  wings  reaching  the  ear 
as  it  disappears  in  the  deep,  making  the  surges  foam  around. 
At  this  moment  the  eager  looks  of  the  eagle  are  all  ardor  ; 
and  levelling  his  neck  for  flight,  he  sees  the  Fish-Hawk  once 
more  emerge,  struggling  with  his  prey,  and  mounting  in  the 
air  with  screams  of  exultation.  These  are  the  signals  for  our 
hero,  who  launching  into  the  air,  instantly  gives  chase,  and 


WASHINGTON  EAGLE  AND   FISH-HAWK.  301 

soon  gains  upon  the  Fish- Hawk  ;  each  exerts  his  utmost  to 
mount  above  the  other,  displaying  in  these  rencountres,  the 
most  elegant  and  sublime  aerial  evolutions.  The  unencum- 
bered eagle  rapidly  advances,  and  is  just  upon  the  point  of 
reaching  his  opponent,  when,  with  a  sudden  scream,  proba- 
bly of  despair  and  honest  execration,  the  latter  drops  his 
fish  ;  the  eagle  poising  himself  for  a  moment,  as  if  to  take  a 
more  certain  aim,  descends  like  a  whirlwind,  snatches  it  in 
his  grasp  ere  it  reaches  the  water,  and  bears  his  ill-gotten 
booty  silently  away  to  the  wood." 

As  a  further  illustration  of  the  dashing  style  of  the  Bald 
Eagle  when  engaged  in  these  audacious  robberies,  Wilson 
says: 

"  I  was  lately  told,"  continues  Mr.  Gardiner,  "by  a  man 
of  truth,  that  he  saw  an  eagle  rob  a  hawk  of  its  fish,  and  the 
hawk  seemed  so  enraged  as  to  fly  down  at  the  eagle,  while 
the  eagle  very  deliberately,  in  the  air,  threw  himself  partly 
over  on  his  back,  and,  while  he  grasped  with  one  foot  the 
fish,  extended  the  other  to  threaten  or  seize  the  hawk.  I 
have  known  several  hawks  unite  to  attack  the  eagle ;  but 
never  knew  a  single  one  to  do  it.  The  eagle  seems  to  regard 
the  hawk  as  the  hawks  do  the  king-birds,  only  as  teasing, 
troublesome  fellows." 

Can  even  Jonathan's  audacity  vault  higher  than  this  cool 
specimen  of  the  manner  in  evil-doing  of  the  bird  of  his  en- 
sign? I  have  often  witnessed  similar  scenes  among  the 
Ariondac  mountains  at  the  north,  where  their  vaulting  crests 
throw  down  huge  shadows  on  the  bosom  of  an  hundred 
sleeping  lakes.  Crouched  in  their  deep  lairs  of  silence,  these 
lakes  and  lakelets  gleam  through  their  blue  depths  with 
many  a  burnished  legion  of  rare  and  splendid  fish — great 
salmon- trout  and  wondrous  shoals  from  mountain-brook, 
slow  inlet  and  tributary  river!  Here  is  the  rich  feeding- 
ground  of  the  noble  Osprey.  Though  they  are  friendly  and 
sociable  birds  in  an  eminent  degree,  you  seldom  find  more 
than  a  single  pair  foraging  upon  the  same  lake  habitually  ; 


302  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIKDS. 

though  on  the  breaking  up  of  spring,  when  the  suckers 
abound  at  the  inlets,  you  may  frequently  see  several  hover- 
ing over  the  same  spot.  The  Bald  Eagle,  who  is  a  sort  of 
omnipresent  predator  wherever  the  Primeval  Nature  holds 
her  own  upon  the  continent,  makes  his  appearance  some- 
times, suddenly,  on  his  wide-visiting  wings,  amidst  these  soli- 
tudes, that  seem  rightfully  to  belong  to  the  Fish-Hawk  alone. 
His  hoarse  bark  startles  the  deep  silence  from  afar,  and  every 
natural  sound  is  mute.  Wheeling  grandly  amidst  the  dim 
blue  cliffs,  he  subsides  on  slow  and  royal  spread  upon  some 
blasted  pine  beside  the  lake-river,  and  with  quick,  short 
screaming — while  he  smooths  his  ruffled  plumes — announces 
to  awed  nature  that  its  winged  monarch  has  come  down  to 
rest.  The  friendly  Fish-Hawks,  in  silent  consternation,  dart 
hither  and  yon,  in  vexed,  uncertain  flight — the  tiny  song- 
sters dive  into  deep  thickets,  and  the  very  cricket  underneath 
dead  leaves,  pauses  for  a  moment  in  its  cheerful  trill,  while 
the  shadow  of  that  drear  sound  passes  over  all.  But  now  the 
kingly  bird  grows  quiet,  and  with  many  a  shift  of  feet  and 
restless  lift  of  wing — while  fierce,  far-darting  eyes  are  taking 
in  all  the  capabilities  of  his  new  perch — he  sinks  into  an  at- 
titude of  deep  repose — one  yellow-heated  eye  upturned, 
watching  the  evolutions  of  the  startled  Fish-Hawks  ;  whose 
movement  becoming  less  and  less  irregular  as  they  wheel  to 
and  fro,  gradually  subsides  into  the  measured  windings  of 
their  habitual  flight  in  seeking  prey — while  the  buzz,  the 
hum,  the  chirp,  the  chatter  and  the  carol  creep  up  once  again, 
and  n  ature  becomes  voiceful  in  her  happy  silence. 

Now,  to  witness,  as  I  have  done,  from  the  mountain-tops, 
the  Osprey  swoop  down  from  the  dizzy  height,  almost  level 
with  my  feet,  and  hear  the  faint  whirr  of  arrowy-falling 
plumes,  and  see  the  cloud-spray  dimly  flash  through  the  blue 
steep  of  distance — ah,  that  was  a  sight !  And  then  the  strong 
bird's  scream  of  exultation  faintly  heard,  and  the"  far  flash  of 
scales  that  glitter  as  he  drags  his  spoil  to  sunlight,  from  its 


WASHINGTON  EAGLE  AND   FISH-HAWK.  303 

dark  slumberous  home,  and  on  strong  vans  goes  beating  up 
towards  the  clouds ;  ah,  that  too,  was  a  sight ! 

But  then  to  see  deep  down,  that  couchant  tyrant  deep 
down  below,  "levelling  his  neck  for  flight"  (as  the  "  glorious 
Weaver"  has  it)  ! — his  war-crest  raised,  his  wings  half  spread, 
pausing  for  the  moment  on  his  stoop,  and  then,  one  clamor- 
ous shriek  of  confident  savage  power,  and  see  him  vault — 
away,  up,  up,  with  a  swift  cleave,  conquering  gravitation, 
and  go  lifted  on  the  spell  of  wings  !  Wonderful  sight — that 
upward  struggle  !  The  Fish-Hawk  has  taken  warning  from 
the  exulting  cry  of  his  old  enemy,  and  with  yet  louder  cries, 
as  if  for  help,  goes  up  and  upward,  swifter,  still  with  vain 
beatings  that  scatter  the  fleece-forms  of  cloud,  above  me  and 
stir  them  whirling  in  gyrations.  But  no,  the  conqueror, 
with  overcoming  wings,  is  upon  him,  with  fierce  buffetings, 
the  stirred  chaos  cannot  hide  from  me,  and  the  Fisher  drops 
its  prey  with  a  despairing  shriek,  while  it  goes  gleaming  head- 
long toward  its  ravished  home ! 

Now  but  an  instant's  poise  while  the  sunlight  can  flash  off 
a  ray  from  steadied  plumes,  and  the  eagle  goes,  dimmed  with 
swiftness,  roaring  down  to  catch  the  falling  prey,  before  it 
reach  the  wave  !  Monarch  humanity  ! — with  poet's  spirit- 
wing  hast  thou  in  all  thy  hoary  annals  an  image  such  as 
this  of  swift  all-conquering  prowess  1  Napoleon  is  the  near- 
est type  of  the  Bald  Eagle  the  world  ever  saw  ! — excepting 
the  Yankee ! ! 

But  the  Fish-Hawk,  although  the  mildest,  the  most  gen- 
erous and  social  of  all  the  Falconidce,  still  recognizes  that 
point  beyond  which  forbearance  is  a  virtue.  When  the 
plundering  outrages  of  the  Bald  Eagle  have  been  at  length 
carried  to  an  intolerable  extreme,  in  any  particular  locality, 
the  Fish-Hawks  in  the  neighborhood  combine  in  a  common 
assault  upon  the  tyrannical  robber.  I  have  frequently  wit- 
nessed such  scenes  along  the  coast  of  the  Gulf  of  Mexico. 
They  abound  in  great  numbers  along  the  estuaries  of  its 
great  rivers.  I  remember  particularly  to  have  noted  the 


804  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIRDS. 

greatest  collection  of  them  at  the  mouth  of  the  Brazos  river, 
of  Texas.  Twenty  or  thirty  of  them  are  constantly  congre- 
gated at  this  place,  during  the  spring  months,  to  feed  upon 
the  great  shoals  of  the  luscious  red  fish  which  then  make 
their  appearanee  lien';  though  otherwise  a  barren  and  un- 
couth spot  it  is,  constantly  enlivened  by  the  aerial  gambols 
of  these  powerful  and  graceful  flighted  birds,  and  many's 
the  battle  between  them  and  the  Bald  Eagle  that  I  have  wit- 
nessed among  the  clouds  at  this  place.  They  seemed  to 
have  formed  a  sort  of  colony  for  mutual  protection,  and  the 
moment  their  foe,  the  eagle,  made  his  appearance  among 
them  theerv  of  alarm  was  raised,  and  the  vigilant  eolonists, 
hurrying  from  all  quarters,  attacked  the  robber  without  hesi- 
tation, and  always  succeeded  in  driving  him  away. 

There  was  always  a  desperate  battle  first  before  the  savage 
monarch  could  bo  routed,  and  I  have  seen  them  gathered 
about  him  in  such  numbers — whirling  and  tumbling  amidst 
a  chaos  of  floating  feathers  through  the  air — that  it  was  im- 
possible for  a  time  to  distinguish  which  was  the  eagle,  until 
having  got  enough  of  it  amidst  such  fearful  odds,  he  would 
fain  turn  tail,  and  with  most  undignified  acceleration  of 
1  light,  would  dart  toward  the  covert  of  the  heavy  forest  to 
hide  his  baffled  royalty  and  shako  off  his  pertinacious  foes 
amidst  the  boughs,  as  do  the  smaller  hawks  when  teased  by 
the  little  King-birds.  I  was  told  by  the  residents  of  Valas- 
co,  at  the  mouth, — who  from  sympathy  with  the  Fish-Hawks 
seemed  to  greatly  relish  the  scenes — that  year  after  year  the 
eagles  made  persevering  attempts  to  obtain  a  lodgment  in  the 
neighborhood  of  this  colony,  but  were  always  promptly  re- 
pulsed and  finally  driven  off!  This,  therefore,  formed  a 
secure  breeding-place  as  well  as  feeding-ground  for  these  mild 
and  amiable  birds.  There  wore  several  of  their  nests  in  I 'nil 
view  of  the  river,  and  many  more,  I  was  told,  in  the  sur- 
rounding forest. 

These  birds  possess  many  traits  of  gentle  loyalty  which 


WASHINGTON  EAGLE  AND   FISH-HAWK.  305 

entitle  it  to  the  universal  sympathy  which  it  commands  from 
mankind.  Wilson  gives  a  fine  instance  in  point. 

"  A  pair  of  these  birds,  on  the  south  side  of  Great  Egg  Har- 
bor river,  and  near  its  mouth,  were  noted  for  several  years. 
The  female,  having  but  one  leg,  was  regularly  furnished, 
while  sitting,  with  fish  in  such  abundance  that  she  seldom 
left  the  nest,  and  never  to  seek  food.  This  kindness  was 
continued  both  before  and  after  incubation.  Some  animals, 
who  claim  the  name  and  rationality  of  man,  might  blush  at 
the  recital  of  this  fact." 

Audubon  also  gives  another  example  of  the  strength  and 
beautity  of  this  conjugal  feeling  in  his  noble  paper  on  this 
bird.  He  says: 

"The  male  assists  in  incubation,  during  the  continuance 
of  which  the  one  bird  supplies  the  other  with  food,  although 
each  in  turn  goes  in  quest  of  some  for  itself.  At  such  times 
the  male  bird  is  now  and  then  observed  rising  to  an  immense 
height  in  the  air,  over  the  spot  where  his  mate  is  seated.  This 
he  does  by  ascending  almost  in  a  direct  line,  by  means  of 
continued  flappings,  meeting  the  breeze  with  his  white 
breast,  and  occasionally  uttering  a  cackling  kind  of  note,  by 
which  the  bystander  is  enabled  to  follow  him  in  his  progress. 
When  the  Fish-Hawk  has  attained  its  utmost  elevation, 
which  is  sometimes  such  that  the  eye  can  no  longer  perceive 
him,  he  utters  a  loud  shriek,  and  dives  smoothly  on  half-ex- 
tended wings  toward  his  nest.  But  before  he  reaches  it,  he 
is  seen  to  expand  his  wings  and  tail,  and  in  this  manner  he 
glides  toward  his  beloved  female,  in  a  beautifully  curved 
line.  The  female  partially  raises  herself  from  her  eggs,  emits 
a  low  cry,  resumes  her  former  posture,  and  her  delighted 
partner  flies  off  to  the  sea,  to  seek  a  favorite  fish  for  her 
whom  he  loves." 

If  there  was  ever  anything  more  tender  and  graceful  than 
this  little  scene  in  the  love-making  of  arrogant  humanity,  I 
have  it  yet  to  see.  The  harmlessness  of  its  pursuits  and 
habits,  its  many  traits  of  fidelity  and  courage  in  its  family  re- 

20 


306  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIRDS. 

lations,  its  coming  always  as  the  harbinger  of  spring  and 
fresh  abundance  in  the  teeming  waters,  the  persecutions  to 
which  it  is  subjected  by  the  eagle,  all  combine  to  render  it 
a  favored  bird  wherever  it  appears  in  this  country.  Its  fond- 
ness for  particular  localities  increases  this  feeling  greatly. 
"Wilson  says  that  along  the  Atlantic  coast  it  is  frequently  as 
much  as  a  luckless  fowler's  safety  is  worth  who  is  detected 
in  shooting  the  Fish-Hawk.  He  may  congratulate  himself 
on  escaping  from  the  rifle  of  the  enraged  owner  of  the  prop- 
erty upon  which  it  has  been  in  the  habit  of  building. 

We  give  Alexander  "Wilson's  beautiful  welcome  to  the 
Fish-Hawk. 

THE  FISHERMAN'S  HYMN. 

The  osprey  sails  above  the  sound, 

The  geese  are  gone,  the  gulls  are  flying ; 
The  herring  shoals  swarm  thick  around, 
The  nets  are  launch'd,  the  boats  are  plying ; 
Yo  ho,  my  hearts !  let's  seek  the  deep, 

Raise  high  the  song,  and  cheerly  wish  her, 
Still  as  the  bending  net  we  sweep, 

"  God  bless  the  fish-hawk  and  the  fisher ! 

She  brings  us  fish — she  brings  us  spring, 

Good  times,  fair  weather,  warmth  and  plenty, 
Fine  store  of  shad,  trout,  herring,  ling, 

Sheepshead  and  drum,  and  old  woman's  dainty  ; 
Yo  ho,  my  hearts !  let's  seek  the  deep, 
Fly  every  oar,  and  cheerly  wish  her, 
Still  as  the  bending  net  we  sweep, 

"  God  bless  the  fish-hawk  and  the  fisher !" 

She  rears  her  young  on  yonder  tree, 

She  leaves  her  faithful  mate  to  mind  'em ; 
Like  us,  for  fish,  she  sails  the  sea, 

And  plunging,  shows  us  where  to  find  'em ; 
Yo  ho,  my  hearts !  let's  seek  the  deep, 
Ply  every  oar,  and  cheerly  wish  her, 
While  the  slow  bending  net  we  sweep, 
"  God  bless  the  fish-hawk  and  the  fisher  1" 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

MY  WIFE'S   STOKY   OF  HER  PET  FINCHES. 

THE  loss  of  our  pet,  General  Bern,  was  deeply  felt.  There 
was  a  sad  vacancy  in  our  home  again,  which  we  did  not 
soon  expect  to  have  filled.  However,  one  morning,  while  I 

yet  wept  for  Bern,  W came  in  with  a  small  cage  in  his 

hand,  containing  an  English  Bullfinch. 

"  See  !"  he  said,  "  I  have  brought  a  fine  Bullfinch  to 
cheer  you — he  sings  very  sweetly  several  German  airs,  and 
it  will  fill  Bern's  place  a  little  for  you !" 

"  No  !  no  !  I  cannot  let  him  stay — no  bird  can  take  Bern's 
place.  I  do  not  want  another  bird  to  love.  Take  him 
away." 

"  Poor  little  Bobby.  I  found  him  in  the  room  of  a  rough 
fellow,  who  did  not  care  for  him,  and  who  gladly  exchanged 
the  sullen  bird,  as  he  called  him,  for  some  trinket.  A  little 
girl  whom  I  saw  there  told  me  how  sweetly  he  sang,  and  I 
determined  to  have  him  at  any  rate.  Must  I  take  the  poor 
bird  away  ?  He  will  be  so  startled  among  my  clamorers, 
that  he  will  not  sing  to  me !" 

"  Well,  let  the  fellow  stay — though,  I  assure  you,  I  cannot 
love  him !" 

So  he  hung  the  bird-cage  on  a  nail  in  my  room,  and  I 
tried  to  turn  my  back  upon  him.  I  could  not  help  ob- 
serving, however,  that  he  seemed  to  relish  the  glow  of  my 
wood  fire,  and  the  warmth  of  the  room,  greatly;  and  was 
commencing  to  dress  his  feathers  and  to  jump  about  in  his 
little  cage  with  quite  a  cheerful  air. 


308  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIRDS. 

I  thought  Mm  at  all  events  a  sensible  bird,  and  determined 
to  give  him  a  larger  cage  during  the  day.  I  then  discovered 
that  he  had  been  so  unfortunate  as  to  lose  three  of  his  toes, 
perhaps  in  the  struggles  he  had  made,  when  he  had  been 
taken  prisoner,  by  means  of  the  deceitful  bird-limed  twig, 
so  that  he  was  almost  incapable  of  resistance  if  one  chose  to 
catch  him  while  in  the  cage,  for  in  'his  efforts  to  cling  to  the 
perch,  he  was  apt  to  lose  his  hold  and  tumble  to  the  bottom 
of  the  cage,  and  then  he  would  only  crouch  in  a  corner,  and 
with  his  bright  black  eye,  and  beseeching  chirp,  pray  to  be 
left  at  peace. 

For  a  week  or  more  I  took  but  little  notice  of  him,  only 
admiring  his  irresistible  song ;  for  he  became  so  cheerful  as 
to  sing  to  us  once  or  twice  during  the  twenty-four  hours. 

One  afternoon,  however,  I  caught  myself  mimicking  the 
droll  whistle,  with  which  he  would  break  his  song;  and 
which  had  precisely  the  sound  we  express  by  the  whew — 
o — o — o  !  when  we  make  what  we  know  to  be  some  ludicrous 
mistake. 

He  instantly  repeated  it  more  slowly.  I  tried  again  and 
again,  till  he  seemed  satisfied,  and  commenced  the  first  bar 
of  a  strain  of  German  music,  and  then  paused !  I  looked 
up.  "  What,  do  you  mean  to  teach  me  your  song?" 

He  repeated  the  notes,  and  I  essayed  to  reproduce  them ; 
my  effort,  however,  seemed  to  amuse  the  young  master,  for  he 
drew  out  to  its  fullest  extent  his  whew — ew — o — o — o — o ! 
But  instantly  commenced  the  bar  again.  By  this  time  I  had 
become  thoroughly  interested,  and  not  liking  to  be  laughed  at, 
made  a  more  successful  effort.  This  time  Bob  seemed  bet- 
ter satisfied,  and  added  a  few  more  notes.  When  I  had 
achieved  those,  Tie  repeated  all  and  put  me  to  the  test,  and  so 
on  through  his  whole  song ;  every  few  moments,  however, 
evidently  heartily  enjoying  the  fantastic  mistakes  which  I 
made,  and  uttering  his  whistle  in  the  most  provokingly  sar- 
castic tone.  I  was  greatly  amused,  and  related  the  story 
with  great  gusto  on  Mr.  Webber's  return. 


THE  PET  FINCHES.  309 

The  next  morning  when  I  came  near  the  cage,  the  bird 
came  as  near  me  as  he  could,  and  commenced  a  pleasant 
chirping,  which  evidently  meant  "  Good  morning  to  you." 
This  I  returned  in  tones  resembling  his  as  nearly  as  I  could, 
and  it  finally  ended  by  my  taking  the  young  gentleman  into 
my  hand,  and  feeding  him.  He  took  his  seeds  from  my 
fingers  from  that  time,  every  morning,  for  two  or  three 

weeks.  Then  we  Were  to  leave  C for  some  time,  and  I 

sent  him  back  to  W ,  congratulating  myself  that  I  was 

yet  heart-whole  as  far  as  Bobby  was  concerned. 

In  about  a  month  we  returned,  and  we  called  to  see  the 
birds.  What  was  my  surprise,  when  master  Bullfinch  in- 
stantly descended  from  his  perch  to  the  corner  of  the  cage 
nearest  to  my  face,  and  after  the  first  chirp  of  greeting,  com- 
menced singing  in  a  sweet  undertone,  bowing  and  turning, 
his  feathers  lifted,  his  eye  gleaming,  and  his  whole  express- 
ion one  of  the  most  profound  admiration  for  little  me !  I 
was  quite  heartless — only  shrugging  my  shoulders  and  turn- 
ing away. 

But,  I  do  not  know  exactly  how  it  came  about,  in  a  few 
weeks  I  had  the  Painted  Finch  and  the  Bullfinch  quite 
domesticated  in  my  room ;  and,  although  I  still  said  I  did 
not  love  him,  yet  I  talked  a  great  deal  to  the  bird ;  and  as 
the  little  fellow  grew  more  and  more  cheerful,  and  sang 
louder  and  often er  each  day,  was  getting  so  handsome,  I 
found  plenty  of  reasons  for  increasing  my  attentions  to  him  ; 
and  then,  above  all  things,  he  seemed  to  need  my  presence 
quite  as  much  as  sunshine,  for  if  I  went  away,  if  only  to  my 
breakfast,  he  would  utter  the  most  piteous  and  incessant  cries 
until  I  returned  to  him ;  when,  in  a  breath,  his  tones  were 
changed,  and  he  sang  his  most  enchanting  airs.  He  made 
himself  most  fascinating  by  his  polite  adoration :  he  never 
considered  himself  sufficiently  well  dressed ;  he  was  most  de- 
voted in  his  efforts  to  enchain  me  by  his  melodies — art  and 
nature,  both  were  called  to  his  aid,  until  finally  I  could  no 
longer  refrain  from  expressing  in  no  measured  terms  my 


310  WILD   SCENES  AND  SONG-BIEDS. 

admiration.  He  was  then  satisfied  not  to  cease  his  atten- 
tions, but,  to  take  a  step  further,  he  presented  me  with  a 
straw,  and  even  with  increased  appearance  of  adulation. 

From  that  time  he  claimed  me  wholly,  no  one  else  could 
approach  the  cage ;  he  would  fight  most  desperately  if  any 
one  dared,  and  if  they  laid  a  finger  on  me,  his  fury  was  un- 
bounded ;  he  would  dash  himself  against  the  bars  of  his 
cage  and  bite  the  wires,  as  if  he  would  obtain  his  iiberty  at 
all  hazards,  and  thus  be  enabled  to  punish  the  offender. 

If  I  went  away  now,  he  would  first  mourn,  then  endeavor 
to  win  me  back  by  sweet  songs.  In  the  morning  I  was 
awakened  by  his  cries,  and  if  I  but  moved  my  hand,  his 
moans  were  changed  to  glad  greetings.  If  I  sat  too  quietly 
at  my  drawing,  he  would  become  weary,  seemingly,  and  call 
me  to  him ;  if  I  would  not  come,  he  would  say  in  gentle 
tone,  "  Come-e-here !  come-e-here  1"  so  distinctly,  that  all 
my  friends  recognized  the  meaning  of  the  accents  at  once, 
and  then  he  would  sing  to  me.  All  the  day  he  would  watch 
me,  if  I  was  cheerful, — he  sang  and  was  so  gay !  If  I  was 
sad,  he  would  sit  by  the  hour  watching  every  movement,  and 
if  I  arose  from  my  seat,  I  was  called  "  Come-e-here,"  and 
whenever  he  could  manage  it,  if  the  wind  blew  my  hair 
within  his  cage,  he  would  cut  it  off,  calling  me  to  help  him, 
as  if  he  thought  I  had  no  right  to  wear  anything  else  than 
feathers ;  and  if  I  would  have  hair,  it  was  only  suitable  for 
nest-building !  If  I  let  him  fly  about  the  room  with  the 
Painted  Finch,  he  would  follow  so  close  in  my  footsteps  that 
I  was  in  constant  terror  that  he  would  be  stepped  on,  or  be 
lost,  in  following  me  from  the  room.  At  last  he  came  to  the 
conclusion  that  I  could  not  build  a  nest.  I  never  seemed  to 
understand  what  to  do  with  the  nice  materials  he  gave  me, 
and  when  I  offered  to  return  them,  he  threw  his  body  to  one 
side '  and  looked  at  me  so  drolly  from  one  eye,  that  I  was 
quite  abashed.  From  that  time  he  seemed  to  think  I  mv-st 
be  a  very  young  creature,  and  most  assiduously  fed  me  at 
stated  periods  during  the  day,  throwing  up  from  his  own 


THE  PET  FINCHES.  311 

stomach  the  half-digested  food  for  my  benefit,  precisely  in 
the  manner  of  feeding  young  birds. 

But  I  did  not  like  this  sort  of  relationship  very  much,  and 
determined  to  break  it  down,  and  forthwith  commenced  by 
coldly  refusing  to  be  fed,  and  as  fast  as  I  could  bring  my 
hard  heart  to  do  it,  breaking  down  all  the  gentle  bonds  be- 
tween us. 

The  result  was  sad  enough.  The  poor  fellow  could  not 
bear  it — he  sat  in  wondering  grief — he  would  not  eat ;  at 
night  I  took  him  in  my  hand  and  held  him  to  my  cheek — 
he  nestled  closely  and  seemed  more  happy,  although  his  lit- 
tle heart  was  too  full  to  let  him  speak.  In  the  morning  I 
scarcely  answered  his  tender  love-call,  "  Come-e-here" — but 
I  sat  down  to  my  drawing,  thinking  if  I  could  be  so  cold 
much  longer  to  so  gentle  and  uncomplaining  a  creature. 

I  presently  arose  and  went  to  the  cage.  Oh !  my  poor, 
poor  bird !  he  lay  struggling  on  the  floor !  I  took  him  out — 
I  tried  to  call  him  back  to  life  in  every  way  that  I  knew,  but 
it  was  useless,  I  saw  he  was  dying,  his  little  frame  was  even 
then  growing  cold  within  my  warm  palm.  I  uttered  the 
call  he  knew  so  well,  he  threw  back  his  head,  with  its  yet 
undimmed  eye,  and  tried  to  answer — the  effort  was  made 
with  his  last  breath.  His  eye  glazed  as  I  gazed,  and  his  atti- 
tude was  never  changed !  His  little  heart  was  broken.  I 
can  never  forgive  myself  for  my  cruelty !  Oh;  to  kill  so 
gentle  and  pure  a  love  as  that ! 

And  now  I  have  left  me  only  the  little  Painted  Finch.  He 
has  given  up  his  propensity  for  quarrelling,  and  has  thrown 
off  the  greater  part  of  his  proud  shy  ways — he  is  still  most  es- 
sentially a  Southerner.  He  is  as  exclusive  and  fastidious  as 
the  knowledge  of  good  blood  and  delicate  breeding  can  make 
him.  He  has  everfelt  himself  an  exile,  and  has  come  to  con- 
sider his  cage  as  his  House  of  Kefuge.  He  seems  not  at  all 
to  desire  to  leave  it,  although  I  frequently  invite  him  out. 

He  without  doubt  remembers  the  orange  groves  of  his  na- 
tive land  with  all  the  intense  devotion  of  a  true  Southerner. 


312  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIRDS. 

He  had  been  the  most  obdurate  tormenter  of  my  Bullfinch 
in  his  own  proud  way — butj  when  he  was  dead,  when  he 
could  no  longer  resent  his  quiet  assaults,  then  he  mourned  as 
deeply  as  we — his  cry  became  distressing,  and  ever  since  he 
has  been  still  and  gentle,  coming  nearer  to  me,  as  if  he  felt 
that  we  too  missed  his  dead  comrade,  and  as  if  we  too  were 
exiles  from  some  far  away  home 

Once  I  had  the  skin  of  a  Painted  Finch  of  full  plumage — 
he  recognized  it  instantly  as  a  countryman — flew  down  to 
greet  it  with  the  most  delicate  and  plaintive  chirpings,  his 
wings  rapidly  flitting  in  short  movements,  his  whole  soul 
beaming  in  ecstasy  from  his  eye — his  figure  crouching  and 
thrown  into  curves,  all  expressing  the  tender  joy  which  filled 
his  bosom  at  thus  meeting  so  suddenly  a  countryman,  who 
had  come  too  in  such  splendor  of  costume. 

He,  poor  fellow,  had  yet  to  wait  many  months  before  he 
could  hope  to  complete  an  entire  change  in  his  own  dress  be- 
neath the  chary  rays  of  the  far  away  sun  of  the  North. 

But  he  thought  not  of  this,  he  saw  only  here,  one  of  his 
kindred,  one  who  had  sung  many  a  midday  hour  from  the 
topmost  branches  of  some  orange  tree,  with  his  feathers 
loosely  spread  to  the  warm  sunbeams  while  he  sung  dream- 
ily in  the  intervals  of  his  naps,  anon  bursting  forth  into 
clear,  shrill  notes  of  defiance,  as  the  voice  of  a  dreamed  of 
rival  crept  into  his  slumbrous  fancy. 

He  saw  here  only  one  exiled  like  himself,  and  his  heart 
was  filled  with  sympathy  and  love — he  came  to  his  side — he 
pecked  gently  at  his  feathers.  Ah,  what!  he  will  not  re- 
spond. Poor  disappointed  Finch.  See  how  he  draws  his 
figure  up  to  its  utmost  height,  and  gazes  at  the  motionless 
shape  before  him.  Now  he  gives  a  quick  thrust  with  his 
bill,  and  uttering  a  short,  shrill  note,  perches  silently  in  a 
corner  of  his  cage. 

He  will  not  look  again  at  this  deceptive  emblem  of 
hope  and  home — his  disgust  is  inexpressible — he  thought 
to  take  to  his  heart  an  embodiment  of  all  the  past — he  had 


THE  PET  FINCHES.  313 

for  a  brief  moment  imagined  that  all  the  weary  interim  was 
to  be  as  nought,  in  that  he  realized  the  dreams  of  youth — 
but  what  had  shocked  him  back  into  the  cold,  sad  world  of 
his  desolation  ?  What,  but  that  he  had  taken  as  the  reality 
only  the  outward  show,  all  dimmed  as  it  really  was,  for  the 
brilliant  and  living  soul  of  those  vanished  reminiscences. 

He  must  be  thrown  again  upon  himself — he  must  shut  his 
too  sensitive  eyes,  until  from  the  darkness  the  angels  of  hope 
and  faith  arise,  and  bear  him  into  strength  again,  to  endure 
the  shock  which  his  too  gentle  spirit  has  received. 

This  little  finch,  now  no  longer  the  quarrelsome  scamp, 
who  made  General  Bern's  life  so  vexed,  has  become  most 
docile,  reliant,  and  confiding.  Everything  we  do  for  him 
he  seems  to  consider  quite  proper  and  matter-of-course.  He 
watches  our  preparations  with  the  eye  of  a  connoisseur,  and 
at  once  puts  to  the  test  all  our  new  schemes  for  his  comfort. 

This  seems  the  more  strange  because  he  was  formerly  so 
very  pugnacious ;  if  no  better  antagonist  offered,  he  would 
stand  before  the  looking-glass,  and  try  most  desperately  to 
whip  the  foe  who  glared  at  him  with  such  determined  ire. 
I  believe,  however,  he  discovered  that  secret,  and  with  char- 
acteristic contempt  for  humbug,  gave  up  this  amusement, 
when  he  found,  on  examination,  that  there  was  really  no 
other  bird  behind  the  glass,  and  contented  himself  with  whip- 
ping every  bird  which  I  brought  to  the  room.  Now,  however, 
since  the  death  of  the  Bullfinch,  he  will  not  be  persuaded 
to  leave  his  cage,  but  sits  among  the  grasses  which  I  give 
him,  and  sings  most  charmingly  during  all  the  heat  of  the 
day. 

This  concludes  my  wife's  story  of  her  pet  Finches..  Be- 
fore taking  leave  of  these  charming  little  birds,  it  may  be 
interesting  to  hear  through  other  naturalists  the  entire  con- 
firmation of  those  traits  which  we  have  observed  to  charac- 
terize them  so  strongly  in  our  domestication.  The  German 
Bechstein  gives  us  some  highly  interesting  particulars  about 


314  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIEDS. 

the  Bullfinch,  which  I  cannot  forego  the  pleasure  of  present- 
ing. He  says : 

"  Although  the  song  of  the  male  and  female  Bullfinch, 
in  their  wild  state,  is  very  harsh  and  disagreeable,  yet  if  well 
taught  while  young,  as  they  are  in  Hesse  and  Fulda,  where 
there  are  schools  of  these  little  musicians  for  all  Germany, 
Holland  and  England,  they  learn  to  whistle  all  kinds  of  airs  and 
melodies  with  so  soft  and  flute-like  a  tone,  that  they  are  great 
favorites  with  amateurs,  and  particularly  with  the  ladies. 
There  are  some  of  these  little  birds  which  can  whistle  dis- 
tinctly three  different  airs,  without  spoiling  or  confusing 
them  in  the  least.  Added  to  this  attraction,  the  Bullfinch 
becomes  exceedingly  tame,  sings  whenever  it  is  told  to  do 
so,  and  is  susceptible  of  a  most  tender  and  lasting  attach- 
ment, which  is  shown  by  its  endearing  actions  ;  it  balances 
its  body,  moves  its  tail  from  right  to  left,  and  spreads  it  like 
a  fan.  It  will  even  repeat  words  with  an  accent  and  tone 
which  indicate  sensibility,  if  one  could  believe  that  it  under- 
stood them ;  but  its  memory  must  not  be  overloaded.  A 
single  air,  with  a  prelude  or  a  short  flourish  to  begin  with,  is 
as  much  as  the  bird  can  learn  and  remember,  and  this  it  will 
execute  to  the  greatest  perfection.  These  little  prodigies 
would  be  more  interesting  and  agreeable  if  their  Hessian 
instructors  possessed  a  little  more  musical  taste,  but  these 
are  generally  tradespeople,  employed  about  the  house  with 
their  different  occupations  and  trades;  and  by  tunes,  airs  and 
minuets  of  a  hundred  years  old,  public-house  songs,  or  some 
learnt  of  their  apprentices,  in  general  compose  the  whole  of 
their  music." 

Tame  Bullfinches  have  been  known  (says  Buffon)  to  es- 
cape from  the  aviary,  and  live  at  liberty  in  the  woods  for  a 
whole  year,  and  then  to  recollect  the  voice  of  the  person 
who  had  reared  them,  return  to  her,  never  more  to  leave  her. 
Others  have  been  known,  which,  when  forced  to  leave  their 
first  master,  have  died  of  grief.  These  little  birds  remember 
very  well,  and  often  too  well,  any  one  who  has  injured  them. 


THE  PET  FINCHES.  315 

One  of  them,  having  been  thrown  down  with  its  cage,  by 
some  of  the  lowest  order  of  the  people,  did  not  seem  at  first 
much  disturbed  by  it,  but  afterwards  it  would  fall  into 
convulsions  as  soon  as  it  saw  any  shabbily-dressed  person, 
and  it  died  in  one  of  these  fits  eight  months  after  the  first 
accident.  A  Bullfinch,  belonging  to  a  lady  often  mentioned 
before,  being  subject  to  very  frightful  dreams,  which 
made  it  fall  from  its  perch,  and  beat  itself  in  the  cage,  no 
sooner  heard  the  affectionate  voice  of  its  mistress,  than,  not- 
withstanding the  darkness  of  the  night,  it  became  imme- 
diately tranquil,  and  re- ascended  its  perch  to  sleep  again.  It 
was  very  fond  of  chickweed,  and  as  soon  as  it  perceived  one 
bringing  it  to  him,  however  much  care  was  taken  to  prevent 
its  finding  it  easily,  it  would  show  its  joy  by  its  actions  and 
cries. 

Concerning  our  little  warlike  Southron,  the  Painted  Finch 
or  Nonpareil,  Mr.  Audubon  has  some  highly  attractive  pas- 
sages. He  says : 

"  The  flight  of  the  Pape,  by  which  the  Creoles  of  Louisiana 
know  this  bird  best,  is  short,  although  regular,  and  performed 
by  a  nearly  constant  motion  of  the  wings,  which  is  rendered 
necessary  by  their  concave  form.  It  hops  on  the  ground, 
moving  forward  with  ease,  now  and  then  jetting  out  the  tail 
a  little,  and,  like  a  true  Sparrow,  picking  up  and  carrying  off 
a  grain  of  rice  or  a  crumb  of  bread  to  some  distance  where 
it  may  eat  in  more  security.  It  has  a  sprightly  song,  often 
repeated,  which  it  continues  even  when  closely  confined. 
When  the  bird  is  at  liberty,  this  song  is  uttered  from  the  top 
branches  of  an  orange  tree,  or  those  of  a  common  briar ;  and 
although  not  so  sonorous  as  that  of  the  Canary,  or  of  its 
nearer  relative,  the  Indigo  Bunting,  is  not  far  from  equalling 
either.  Its  song  is  continued  during  the  greatest  heats  of  the 
day,  which  is  also  the  case  with  that  of  the  Indigo  Bird. 

"  About  the  middle  of  April,  the  orange  groves  of  the  lower 
parts  of  Louisiana,  and  more  especially  those  in  the  imme- 
diate vicinity  of  the  city  of  New  Orleans,  are  abundantly 


316  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIRDS. 

supplied  with  this  beautiful  Sparrow.  But  no  sooner  does  it 
make  its  appearance  than  trap-cages  are  set,  and  a  regular 
business  is  commenced  in  the  market  of  that  city.  The  me- 
thod employed  in  securing  the  male  Painted  Finch  is  so 
connected  with  its  pugnacious  habits,  that  I  feel  inclined  to 
describe  it,  especially  as  it  is  so  different  from  the  common 
mode  of  alluring  birds,  that  it  may  afford  you,  kind  reader, 
some  amusement. 

"A  male  bird  in  full  plumage  is  shot  and  stuffed  in  a 
defensive  altitude,  and  perched  among  some  grass  seed,  rice, 
or  other  food,  on  the  same  platform  as  the  trap-cage.  This 
is  taken  to  the  fields  or  near  the  orangeries,  and  placed  in  so 
open  a  situation  that  it  would  be  difficult  for  a  living  bird  to 
fly  over  it  without  observing  it.  The  trap  is  set.  A  male 
Painted  Finch  passes — perceives  it,  and  dives  towards  the 
stuffed  bird,  with  all  the  anger  which  its  little  breast  can 
contain.  It  alights  on  the  edge  of  the  trap  for  a  moment, 
and  throwing  its  body  against  the  stuffed  bird,  brings  down 
the  trap,  and  is  made  prisoner.  In  this  manner  thousands 
of  these  birds  are  caught  every  spring.  So  pertinacious  are 
they  in  their  attacks,  that  even  when  the  trap  has  closed 
upon  them,  they  continue  pecking  at  the  features  of  the  sup- 
posed rival.  The  approach  of  man  seems  to  allay  its  anger 
in  a  moment.  The  live  bird  is  removed  to  the  lower  apart- 
ment of  the  cage,  and  is  thereby  made  to  assist  in  decoying 
others. 

"  They  feed  almost  immediately  after  being  caught ;  and  if 
able  to  bear  the  loss  of  liberty  for  a  few  days,  may  be  kept 
for  several  years.  I  have  known  some  instances  of  their 
being  kept  in  confinement  for  upwards  of  ten  years.  Few 
vessels  leave  the  port  of  New  Orleans,  during  the  summer 
months,  without  taking  some  Painted  Finches  ;  and  through 
this  means  they  are  transported  probably  to  all  parts  of 
Europe.  I  have  seen  them  offered  for  sale  in  London  and 
Paris,  with  the  trifling  difference  of  value  on  each  individual, 


THE  PET  FINCHES.  317 

which  converted  the  sixpence  paid  for  it  in  New  Orleans  to 
three  guineas  in  London. 

"  The  pugnacious  habits  of  this  species  are  common,  in  a 
great  degree,  to  the  whole  family  of  Sparrows.  Like  the 
most  daring,  the  common  House  Sparrow  of  Europe,  they 
may  be  observed  in  spring  time,  in  little  groups  of  four,  five, 
or  six,  fighting  together — moving  round  each  other  so  as  to 
secure  an  advantageous  position,  pecking  and  pulling  at  each 
other's  feathers  with  all  the  violence  and  animosity  to  which 
their  small  degree  of  strength  can  give  effect." 


CHAPTER  XV. 

OUT  OF  BOOKS  WITH  NATUKE. 

OUT  of  doors !  "We  weary  of  this  unceasing  labor — are 
choking  to  death  of  the  stagnant  air  of  heaped  up  cities, 
which,  with  their  gutter-defiled  trigonometries,  set  at  defiance, 
of  assoilation,  the  straight  currents  of  Heaven's  fresh  air — 
leaving  us  to  moan  and  swelter  amidst  pestilential  stagnations ! 

Let  us  go,  O  ye  who  yearn  for  purer  odors  than  the  steam 
of  the  kitchen  !  Let  us  go  forth — out  of  doors  with  Nature ! 
Aye !  and  when  her  fresh  breath  shall  come  upon  our  seamed 
and  heated  brows,  it  shall  be  with  an  alchemy  more  strange 
than  the  Elixir  of  vain  Cagliostro — more  marvellous  than  all 
Spells,  Philosophers'  Stones,  and  Fortunatus'  Caps — more 
potent  than  the  wizard  edicts  of  that  eldest  brother  of  shad- 
owy science — hoar  Astrology  ! 

To  be  sure  we  ought  all  of  us  to  be  astrologists — perhaps 
minus  the  science  ;  for  should  we  not  feel  humbly — that,  as 
we  are  children  of  the  earth,  so  we  may  be  moved  as  she  is 
moved,  in  that  of  us  which  is  earthy  ? — and  that,  as  the  stars 
are  God's  flowers  of  thought — so  are  those  meek  wild  flowers 
which  we  find  upon  her  bosom,  the  starry  bloomings  of  the 
thought  of  earth  1  Should  we  not  learn,  too,  to  read  their 
teachings? — perhaps  thus  the  blossoming  of  Life  may  be 
renewed  in  us. 

Be  this  as  it  may — these  flowers,  and  trees,  and  birds — we 
love  them  best  and  dearly  "  out  of  doors !" 

We  know  that  these  Stars  may  speak  drear  things  to  us, 


OUT  OF  DOOES  WITH  NATUEE.  319 

they  when  we  are  untrue  to  ourselves — 'that  the  icy  points 
dropt  in  gazing  from  their  dim  far  homes  into  our  souls, 
may  freeze  us  into  shudderings  of  awe ! — but  these  Flow- 
Stars  of  Earth — they  do  not  so  !  They  are  no  deadly-eyed 
and  distant  strangers — but  with  meek  upward  faces  they 
soothe  us  with  soft  eyes,  and  in  the  warm  breath  of  sweetest 
odors,  exhale  their  loving  lives  in  tenderness  for  us  !  This 
is  the  Astrology  of  Love  that  cannot  lie — the  Alchemy, 
Elixir,  Spell  that  shall  renew  our  Youth  forever. 

Then  let  us  go  forth — out  of  doors  with  Nature ! 

See  how  even  art  has  sold  her  birthright! — for  after 
all  that  has  been  said  in  a  pompous  criticism  about  Art, 
old  mother  nature  sets  our  learning  at  nought,  in  "  mere  sim- 
plicity." The  Human  Artist,  working  under  terror  of  the 
"Rules,"  attempts  too  much.  He  does  not  deign  to  look  at 
Her  as  his  great  teacher,  but  turning  in  veneration  towards 
some  "  Name" — weak  as  his  own  except  in  notoriety — he  in- 
carnates nature  in  a  school,  and  tamely  strives  rather  to  re- 
produce its  errors — to  perpetuate  its  dogmas — than  to  search 
for  living  truths  himself. 

Thus  he  attempts  too  much — if  he  have  one  instinct  of 
art  in  him — for  in  the  effort  to  serve  both  nature  and  the 
"  Master,"  he  confounds  the  two — crowds  and  over  works  his 
picture,  and  utterly  destroys  all  unity  and  directness  of 
effect. 

The  fact  is,  men  are  afraid  of  nature — so  accustumed  are 
they  to  the  regalia  of  honor  and  of  state,  that  her  plainness 
repells  them.  They  do  not  understand  dignity  or  greatness, 
or  nobility,  divested  of  and  separate  from  the  "  tricksey 
pomps"  of  "ribbons,"  "garters,"  gew  gaws,  &c. 

They  convey  this  morbid  appetite  into  landscape  uncon- 
sciously, and  hence  the  horrid  array  of  blazing  pictures  we 
find  on  the  walls  of  our  exhibitions.  The  scenes  must  be  all 
Autumn — loaded  with  garish  colors — trees  like  hay -ricks  on 
fire ;  or,  Indian  Summer — all  haze — with  red  sunsets,  like 
the  flaming  faces  of  market  women  from  behind  their  Sun- 


320  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIKDS. 

day  veils — or  else  a  pot  of  ochre  streaked  with  indigo,  is 
turned  over  on  the  canvas  to  "  represent"  for  you  an  Italian 
sky  and  sunset ! 

Nature  is  not  always  volcanic — neither  does  she  day  by 
day  go  into  convulsions  of  the  picturesque,  as  do  her  "Great 
Masters !"  I  suppose  they  must  be  recognized  as  such,  of 
course,  since  they  are  responsible  for  the  agorising  monstros- 
ities of  their  too  literal  disciples.  Nature  is  altogether  too 
serene  in  her  habitual  moods  for  these  Fire  Worshippers  of 
Art,  whose  softest  shadows  are  of  smoke  and  storm  clouds. 

Such  minds  do  not  comprehend  sublimity — they  cannot 
understand  that  as  music  is  rolled  up  from  the  abyss,  filling 
Silence  with  the  gradual  volume  of  its  awful  symphonies,  so 
Art  must  rear  its  solemn  forms  upon  the  plane  of  vast  Ke- 
pose! 

How  simple  the  accessaries  of  her  grandest  pictures  1 

Behold  a  tropical  forest!  Beneath  its  deep  shadows  a 
herd  of  elephants!  They  browse  on  the  dark  green  and 
glossy  leaves,  or  lean  their  sage  heads  in  heavy  quiet  against 
the  great  stems  around  them  ! 

What  association ! 

The  far  Orient — the  Magii — the  ivory  and  gold  of  Ophir — 
the  Barbarian  Po,  and  the  world  conquering  Macedonian, 
Darius,  Xerxes,  with  their  swarming  millions,  Xenophon, 
the  subtle,  with  his  hardy  handful,  Marathon,  Thermopylae 
— the  pageantry,  the  glory,  the  decay — all  rise  in  quick  com- 
ing shadows  to  the  spell  of  that  simple  picture. 

The  slimy  Nile  beneath  a  burning  sun — a  crocodile — an 
Ibis! 

And  pyramids  loom  along  the  sky-rimmed  desert — 
Sphynx-guarded  palaces,  mightier  than  the  very  dreams  of 
man's  ambition  since,  and  Hecatombs  of  mummied  nations, 
come  all  unbidden  with  the  scene. 

A  few  ostriches,  a  clump  of  palm  trees  1 

Jacob's  Well — Hagar  in  the  wilderness — the  fire-eyed 
barb,  tireless  and  swift  of  foot — the  tinkling  bells  of  the  long 


OUT  OF  DOORS  WITH  NATURE.          321 

caravan — the  solitary  vulture  coming  out  of  .the  cloudless 
distance — the  green  oasis — the  dread  simoon — we  see  them 
all! 

An  eagle  wheeling  through  the  mists  above  Niagara ! 

The  loosened  thunder  of  that  great  river's  fall  coming 
through  the  silence  of  a  new  creation  to  chord  the  bass  of 
northern  storms  through  mighty  lakes  and  groaning  moun- 
tain pines — Freedom  cleaving  through  the  mists  of  struggle 
with  the  sun  upon  its  golden  wing — the  Home  of  a  great 
people  ! 

It  is  thus  that  the  true  mystery  of  art  lies  in  suggestion  ! 
But  your  modern  painter  is  not  content  with  this ;  he  must 
fill  up — he  must  be,  to  us,  a  "  better  nature,"  and  leave  us  no 
scope  for  memory  or  imagination.  He  is  poorly  jealous  of 
the  power  of  the  wand  he  has  presumed  to  wield,  and  must 
compel  us  to  be  its  slaves.  But,  in  spite  of  the  terrors  of  his 
denunciation,  we  shall  introduce  you  to  yet  another  of  those 
wondrous,  but  simple  pictures. 

In  traversing,  during  the  winter  months,  the  vast  prairies 
of  Texas  and  the  Southwest,  you  frequently  realize  all  the 
solitary  grandeur  of  Zahara.  The  eye  aches  through  the 
weary  stretching  distance — not  an  object !  One  little  cloud 
holds  with  the  sun  the  blue  heavens  above — beneath  and 
around  you,  the  grass ! — the  brown  waving  grass ! — away ! — 
away! — with  its  dreamy  undulating  surface — it  widens, 
widening  till  blended  in  a  hazy  meeting  with  the  sky,  the  in- 
finite seems  just  begun,  and  boundless  space  yet  stretched 
before  you. 

You  begin  to  feel  strangely  and  hear  your  heart  beat  very 
loud.  It  seems  awful  to  be  the  only  thing  alive  to  breathe 
within  this  vast  expanse — the  world  seems  dead — a  parched 
blank  with  only  one  warm  vital  centre  in  your  own  breast. 

You  gasp  for  companionship — anything ! — anything  that 
moves  and  has  a  being,  for  it  is  crushing  thus  to  stand  alone 
before  the  God  of  this  dumb  moveless  nature  !  When  sud- 
denly, a  hoarse  cry,  "Kewrrooh!  Kewrrooli !  KewrroohF 

21 


322  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIRDS. 

strikes  through,  the  rarified  atmosphere,  stunning  you  like  a 
pistol-shot  close  to  the  ear  1 

You  turnl  They  are  the  Cranes! — your  heart  bounds 
from  the  shock  with  a  gush  of  joy — you  are  no  longer  alone! 
There  they  are — half  a  mile  to  the  right — see  the  snowy 
phalanx  ascending  into  view  over  yon  wave-like  undulation 
of  the  prairie — with  every  stately  stride  uttering  that  loud 
and  thumping  cry,  while  their  long  quick-necks  cross  each 
other  against  the  horizon,  weaving  in  and  weaving  out, 
making  strange  figures  on  the  blue,  as  they  huddle,  stalking 
to  and  fro  confusedly  at  sight  of  the  forlorn  wanderer. 

How  stately  and  how  beautiful  they  are — tall  as  a  tall  man 
— the  dazzling  white  of  their  plumage  heightened  by  the 
black  primary  coverts  of  the  wing ! — their  motions  how  pic- 
turesque and  gracefully  solemn ! 

"What  a  surprise  how  they  bring  the  real  earth  back  to  you 
again !  That  wild  note  has  startled  you  before  with  its  sud- 
den rolling  croak,  but  upon  far  different  and  distant  scenes. 

Perhaps  it  had  been  heard  amidst  native  surroundings,  as 
it  has  been  by  myself  in  Kentucky  and  through  the  South- 
western States,  in  which  it  alights  during  its  fall  migrations 
towards  the  South,  and  then  how  pleasant  the  associations  it 
recalls  thus  in  the  friendless  wilderness !  They  seem  as  if 
they  brought  us  news  from  those  we  loved — as  if  but  yester- 
day they  had  alighted,  as  they  passed,  in  their  favorite  field, 
upon  our  veritable  homestead,  and  now  came  to  us  with  the 
aroma  of  home  upon  their  wings,  annihilating  space  and 
softening-  absence ! 

But  here  is  its  winter  home,  and  with  us  it  had  only  been 
a  sojourner  by  the  way ;  here  it  seems  the  incarnate  spirit  of 
the  place,  an  embodiment  of  latitude  sentinaling  the  repose 
of  nature — its  tall  form  overlooking  the  undulations  of 
the  plain  with  a  keenness  of  vision  surpassed  only  by  the 
great  vulture  of  the  East — nothing  can  traverse  these  wastes 
without  being  challenged. 

Its  tocsin  shout  rings  upon  the  hurried  ear  of  the  Caman- 


OUT  OF  DOORS  WITH  NATURE.  323 

che,  as  lie  sweeps  startled  past  with,  streaming  feathers,  and 
lance,  and  bow,  upon  some  bloody  foray  into  the  distant  set- 
tlements ;  and  the  mountain  maurader  hates  the  snowy  bird 
for  many  a  cunning  stratagem  of  his  that  clamorous  warning 
has  even  foiled. 

But  little  care  the  proud  birds  for  his  hate ;  their  wary 
watchfulness  is  a  match  for  the  Indian's  cunning.  The 
Mexican,  too,  with  his  fell  assassin  air  and  hidden  knife, 
feels  his  coward  heart  leap  to  his  throat  at  that  loud  chal- 
lenge, and  he  turns  him  on  his  robber-trail,  like  the  sneaking 
wolf,  to  look  behind  him  for  the  avenger  coming ! 

Strange  sights  and  sounds  these  guardians  of  the  prairies 
have  witnessed  ;  as,  with  slow  and  measured  tread,  they  have 
paced  their  stately  rounds. 

They  are  as  much  a  part  of  the  scenery  of  the  prairies  as 
the  Ostrich  is  of  that  of  the  great  desert ;  and  if  we  only 
knew  so  much  of  the  past  story  of  the  waste  homes  of 
buried  empire — as  the  pairies  beyond  doubt  were — as  we  do 
even  of  the  home  of  the  Ostrich,  what  strange  and  grand  as- 
sociations with  the  majestic  era  their  progenitors  had  lived 
through,  the  sight  of  this  noble  bird,  amidst  such  scenes, 
would  call  up  ?  As  it  is,  they  are  singularly  wild  and  fasci- 
nating. 

You  are  seldom  out  of  sight  of  the  Sand-hill  Crane  in 
these  regions  more  than  a  day  at  a  time.  When  the  deer 
has  retreated  to  the  shelter  of  the  timber,  the  buffalo  moved 
further  to  the  west,  and  the  wolves  have  followed  in  their 
trails,  leaving  the  plains  tenantless,  they  are  still  enlivened 
by  the  numberless  flocks  of  these  birds — either  the  Blue  or 
Canada  Crane,  as  it  is  called,  or  the  White. 

And  yet  such  tender  and  magnificent  associations  are  all 
called  up  by  a  single  stroke  of  the  magical  and  unregarded 
pencil  of  our  lowly  mother  !  Who  thinks  of  her  simplicity 
when  morbidly  groping  for  miracles  amidst  the  pompous 
wrecks  of  humbled  human  art  in  poor  degraded  Rome  ? 
Who  thinks  of  her  amidst  the  storied  frescoes  of  "  Beautiful 


324  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIRDS. 

Florence  " — beautiful  as  whited  sepulchre  ? — as  though  pil- 
lared aisles  and  tinsel  stars  were  equal  to  God's  garniture  of 
his  earth  and  sky  ! 

The  question  eternally  in  the  mouth  of  your  muddle- 
headed  Fogy,  "  How  can  any  one  expect  to  be  an  artist  who 
does  not  study  art  in  Italy?"  has  spoiled  many  a  clever 
sculptor  and  painter. 

Pah !  absurd  !  Does  your  true  man  go  first  to  Eome  to 
study  the  line  of  beauty  that  he  may  learn  to  choose  a  wife  ? 
Does  he  not  rather  trust  to  that  perception  of  symmetry 
which  was  educated  into  him  by  the  graceful  freedom  of  his 
romping  sisters  and  their  bright-haired  playmates?  And 
when  he  has  first  gratified  his  own  sense  of  the  beautiful  in 
securing  his  bride — then,  if  he  choose,  he  may  take  her  to 
Eome,  and  proudly  contrast  her  with  the  Madonnas  or  the 
Venus ! 

So  with  the  true  artist.  His  art  is  with  him  his  first  love, 
and  concerning  her  doth  he  question  only  nature.  When  his 
devotion  has  at  last  won  her  for  his  Bride — his  soul  Bride — 
then  may  he  go  to  Italy,  and  with  pride  in  his  conscious 
heart  stand  calm-eyed  and  erect  before  any  marble  Titan  of 
them  all !  He  goes  with  sobered  firmness  to  compare  and 
study  methods,  not  with  lips  in  the  dust  of  abject  humiliation, 
to  imitate  forms  ! 

Ours  is  not  the  period  to  be  exclusively  cowed  by  worn- 
out  conventionalities  of  any  sort.  The  time  has  come  when 
man  indeed  carries  "the  countenance  erect,"  and  dares  to 
look  upward  with  his  own  eyes  for  truth — dares,  in  a  word, 
to  belong  to  himself  and  God,  and  not  to  precedent  of  his 
fellow-man  1 

It  is,  indeed,  a  swift  age — a  swift  race,  and  well  may  the 
American  swift  (or  chimney  swallow)  be  said  to  type  many 
of  its  chief  characteristics. 

Yes,  the  Yankee  is  the  spiritual  swallow  as  well  as  the 
moral — the  overcoming  speed  of  his  rapid  thought  has  con- 
quered space,  as  do  the  wings  of  the  bird ;  he  darts  through 


OUT  OF  DOORS  WITH  NATUKE.  325 

the  cities  to  his  morning  meal,  and  takes  a  nation  for  "  mine 
inn  "  by  the  way,  from  zone  to  zone  !  Say  then,  the  Ameri- 
can is  not  also  the  truest  poet ! 

Is  the  bird  upon  its  tireless  pinions  "  putting  a  belt  around 
the  world,"  a  beautiful  and  glorious  creature' — the  most 
poetical  of  images  ?  Why  not  then  the  man,  who,  in  his 
car  of  power,  sits  calmly  to  be  borne  as  by  his  own  will,  to 
the  uttermost  parts  of  the  earth — a  far  more  sublime  embodi- 
ment of  all  that 

"  Bottomless  conceit " 

has  shaped  to  poetry. 

Does  the  swallow  breast  the  opposing  winds,  and  cleave  in 
undeviating  flight  the  track  of  storms  ? — the  Yankee,  in  his 
steamship,  follows  on  his  subject  waves ! 

Does  the  swallow  glide  across  trackless  wastes — above  the 
sea-like  crests  of  mighty  forests — rise  like  a  loosened  arrow 
amidst  the  snows  of  mountains,  and  dive  the  abyss  of  val- 
veys? — the  Yankee  on  his  railroad  thunders  after  it  in 
clouds  and  fire — hurtling  over  plains,  cleaving  startled 
woods,  to  plunge  reverberating  through  the  yawning  tunnel, 
and  burst  forth  winding  on  the  paths  of  cities ! 

Does  the  swallow  lead  the  south  wind's  flight,  and  find  its 
summer  in  a  day  ? — the  Yankee  can  pass  it  on  the  way,  can 
speak  across  a  continent,  bid  a  home  arise  before  he  starts, 
and  offer  the  swallow  lodgings  in  his  chimney-flue,  at  that, 
when  it  arrives. 

There  is  no  mistake  about  it — this  same  Yankee  is  the 
highest  poet  of  the  most  poetical  age  the  world  ever  saw, 
though  it  is  perfectly  well  known  that  he  has  scarcely  a  vol- 
ume of  respectable  poetry — so  called — to  bless  himself  with- 
all! 

His  poetry  is  a  live  substantiality — a  creation — an  entity 
of  being  and  of  action — of  being,  real  as  the  firm-based 
earth — of  action  grander  than  Homeric  dreams.  The  "  metre 
ballad-monger"  is  no  longer  the  poet  of  mankind — the 


326  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIKDS. 

swarthy  mechanician,  takes  his  place — and  the  faded  Trou- 
badour lingers  a  ghostly  shadow  beneath  Barbaric  towers. 

The  soul  of  the  beautiful  has  triumphed  over  manacles  of 
rhyme,  and  the  mere  artifice  of  jingling  lines,  like  the  sounds 
of  the  ancient  armorer's  hammer,  become  an  echo  of  a  dis- 
used craft !  Our  chivalry  has  found  a  new  "  Plate  of  Proof," 
in  a  free  thought  that  "  speaketh  wide,"  and  is  not  afraid 
of  new  "  deeds  of  high  emprize  "  in  conquering  elements  to 
chain  them  to  the  car  of  Truth. 

If  it  be  poetical  to  have  turned  the  wonders  of  Aladin's 
Lamp  into  the  realities  of  his  every-day  life,  then  is  your 
Yankee  a  poet  of  action  more  splendid  than  the  Oriental's 
gorgeous  fancy — a  Sinbad  of  actual  voyages  on  the  un- 
known seas  of  miracles,  with  the  weird  Science  for  his 
helmsman ! 

As  we  Americans  are  then  undoubtedly  a  "  swift"  people, 
intellectually  and  physically,  we  therefore  like  the  chimney 
swallow.  It  is  a  headlong,  rapid,  rattling,  sociable  creature 
— a  perfect  Yankee  in  morals  and  manners.  It  is  here  and 
there  and  everywhere  before  you  have  time  to  think — it  is 
strictly  utilitarian  and  always  busy  ;  it  is  a  bird  of  progress, 
having  no  respect  for  idle  though  ancient  usages,  and  hence 
we  uphold  it  in  appropriating,  without  the  ceremony  of,  by 
your  leave — our  unoccupied  chimney-flues  in  preference  to 
the  old  hollow  trees  their  ancestors  lived  in. 

This  sort  of  sagacity  goes  to  the  heart  of  a  Yankee — 
nothing  can  lie  idle  where  he  is ;  if  nobody  else  takes  pos- 
session and  turns  it  to  account,  he  feels  it  to  be  a  moral  duty 
to  do  so  himself — industry  with  him  covers  a  multitude  of 
sins.  He  absolutely  protects  and  nourishes  the  swallow  on 
this  account,  though  an  intruder  upon  himself;  but  we 
should  not  expect  too  much  of  Yankee  nature,  nor  be  sur- 
prised if  we  should  find  him  in  emulation  of  the  Chinese  in- 
troducing "  bird's-nest  soup  "  into  general  use  at  sixpence  a 
bowl !  The  near  communication  with  China,  which  the 
California  trade  has  opened,  may  lead  to  such  a  result  at  an 


OUT  OF  DOORS  WITH  NATURE.          327 

early  day  :  for  with  the  influx  of  a  rich  commerce  we  may 
look  for  these  foreign  luxuries. 

But  with  all  Jonathan's  material  tendencies  in  the  matter  of 
practical  poetry  and  Epic  deeds,  he  is  nevertheless  surrounded 
in  his  daily  walks  by  marvellous  harmonies,  the  etherial  tones 
of  which  might 

"  Wake  a  soul  under  the  ribs  of  Death." 

As  he  has  never  been  noted  for  a  laggard,  we  give  him  the 
credit  of  greeting  many  a  resurrection  of  Daedal  Earth  with 

u  The  top  o'  the  morn  to  ye  !" 

as  Day  rolled  grandly  forth  from  its  deep  lair  of  Darkness ; 
and  then  how,  in  spring-time,  axled  on  harmonies,  its  sono- 
rous wheels  climbed  the  low  mists,  melting  them  in  seeming 
snow-flakes,  in  rose-tints,  and  in  music  !  Ah,  then  it  is  that 
hard-fisted  Jonathan  knows  that  he  is  something  more  than 
a  machine  maker — that,  though  he  invents,  he  too  had  been 
invented  first ;  and  his  rough  heart  melts — his  brown  and 
parchment-wrinkled  face,  grows  glistening  down  its  seams 
like  "dew  besprent"  sides  of  gray  old  granite  gorges  Avhich 
sudden  summer  storms  have  cut  in  sharp  narrow  tracks,  as 
they  were  hurled  adown  from  some  element-defying  mountain 
front !  He  hears  the  morning  song  of  birds,  and  all  his  child- 
hood is  brought  back  to  him — for  tough,  hard,  and  indestruc- 
tible as  his  present  nature  seems,  it  is  not  the  less  true  that  this 
caoutchouc  being  was  once  tender  as  the  first  fresh-blown 
flower  of  spring,  when  the  earliest  morning  bird  waked  with 
it  in  soft,  low,  garrulous  prattling  to  the  coming  sun. 

He  recognizes,  one  by  one,  the  fellows  of  that  blissful  time. 
First  struggling  out  from  the  deep  hush  of  dim  and  distant 
woods,  he  hears  the  mellow,  liquid  strain  of  that  sweet- voiced 
Evangel  of  the  solitude — the  freckled  Song  Thrush.  Then, 
nearer  at  hand,  the  little  "Wren  shrills  its  piping  treble — aye, 
it  may  be  from  the  very  chimney-top  itself — while  now,  some 


328  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG  BIKDS. 

minutes  since,  the  soft  twittering  of  the  Blue  Martin,  under- 
neath the  eaves;  has  been  becoming  more  and  more  musically 
discordant,  as  meek  dark  eyes  are  opened  amidst  the  gabble. 
Now,  from  the  family  tree  that  shadows  the  roof,  the  loud, 
clear  song  of  the  Eobin  awakes  his  brooding  mate.  Now 
the  Cat-Bird's  limpid  roundelay  steals  out  from  the  garden 
hedge;  and,  in  low  ^Eolian  twitterings,  the  delicate  Blue 
Bird  greets  the  morning — while,  from  the  swinging  summit 
of  some  oak  bordering  the  forest,  the  bold  pipe  of  the  Cardi- 
nal Grosbeak  rings  its  shrill  call,  waking  the  startled  echoes 
like  the  tiny  clarion  of  some  Knight  of  Fairie.  And  now, 
from  some  scented  tuft  of  grasses,  delicious  as  the  voice  of 
all  their  aromas,  a  rounded  glide  of  melody,  like  dew-drops 
rolling  from  a  rose's  cheek,  creeps  sudden  on  the  sense  from 
where  the  dainty  Meadow  Lark  leans  its  dark  breast  against 
the  clover-tops — and  all  at  once  the  garrulous  clatter  of  the 
gay  Orchard  Oriole  breaks  in.  Now  hush !  hush !  the  noble 
Brown  Thrush  has  mounted  to  the  spire  of  yon  young  maple 
— his  inspiration  is  upon  him — and  lo !  the  deep  and  won- 
drous flow  of  sound  I — plaintive,  mellow,  wild,  and  wierd — 
hark !  the  ecstatic  measured  limpid  gushes !  The  sultry, 
drowsy  trill  of  the  Song  Sparrow,  on  the  fence-post  below, 
is  scarcely  noted,  although  he  rises  on  tip-toe  to  it,  in  his 
furious  earnest  to  be  heard.  And  now  the  full  choir  is 
aroused;  and  in  a  mighty  burst  of  harmony  the  Sun  is 
greeted  as  his  burnished  disk  wheels  up  the  Orient.  And 
now  the  Monarch  of  Earth's  song,  who,  like  other  aristo- 
crats, keeps  late  hours,  and  therefore  is  in  no  hurry  to  rise 
in  the  morning,  thinks  it  full  time  to  give  his  noisy  subjects  a 
new  lesson  in  music,  and  soon  his  powerful  song  climbs  to 
the  throne  of  sound,  and  all  other  notes  are  hushed  in  the 
usurping  splendors  of  his  majestic  minstrelsy ! 

Now,  too,  away  in  the  wild  forest,  the  Hunter-Naturalist, 
bearded  and  brown,  as  he  sits  beside  his  solitary  camp  firef 
hears  a  consoling  minstrelsy,  as  cheerful,  as  soft,  as  sweet 
as  any  in  this  neighboring  choir.  Here  him  tell  how  a 


OUT  OF  DOORS  WITH  NATURE.          329 

strange  charmer  came  to  him  in  the  wilds.  It  is  Audubon 
who  speaks : 

"  One  year,  in  the  month  of  August,  I  was  trudging  along 
the  shores  of  the  Mohawk  river,  when  night  overtook  me. 
Being  little  acquainted  with  that  part  of  the  country,  I  re- 
solved to  camp  where  I  was.  The  evening  was  calm  and 
beautiful.  The  sky  sparkled  with  stars,  which  were  reflected 
by  the  smooth  waters  ;  and  the  deep  shade  of  the  rocks  and 
trees  of  the  opposite  shore  fell  on  the  bosom  of  the  stream, 
while  gently  from  afar  came  on  the  ear  the  muttering  sound 
of  the  cataract.  My  little  fire  was  soon  lighted  under  a  rock, 
and  spreading  out  my  scanty  stock  of  provisions,  I  reclined 
on  my  grassy  couch.  As  I  looked  around  on  the  fading 
features  of  the  beautiful  landscape,  my  heart  turned  towards 
my  distant  home,  where  my  friends  were  doubtless  wishing 
me,  as  I  wished  them,  a  happy  night  and  peaceful  slumbers. 
Then  were  heard  the  barkings  of  the  watch-dog,  and  I  tapped 
my  faithful  companion  to  prevent  his  answering  them.  The 
thoughts  of  my  worldly  sins  soon  then  came  over  my 
mind,  and  having  thanked  the  Creator  of  all  for  his  never- 
failing  mercy,  I  closed  my  eyes,  and  was  passing  away  into 
the  world  of  dreaming  existence,  when  suddenly  there  burst 
on  my  soul  the  serenade  of  the  Kose-breasted  bird,  so  rich, 
so  mellow,  so  loud  in  the  stillness  of  the  night,  that  sleep  fled 
from  my  eyelids.  Never  did  I  enjoy  music  more ;  it  thrilled 
through  my  heart,  and  surrounded  me  with  an  atmosphere  of 
bliss.  One  might  easily  have  imagined  that  even  the  Owl, 
charmed  by  such  delightful  music,  remained  reverently  silent. 
Long  after  the  sounds  ceased  did  I  enjoy  them  ;  and  when 
all  had  again  become  still,  I  stretched  out  my  wearied  limbs, 
and  gave  myself  up  to  the  luxury  of  repose." 

After  this  charming  picture,  never  think  of  "  Savage" 
wildernesses  again ;  for  doth  not  the  Hunter-Naturalist  tell 
you  that  beauty  and  melodies  go  everywhere  hand  and 
hand  with  nature. 

This  lovely  bird; — a  portrait  of  which  my  wife  has  given 


330  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIEDS. 

you  in  its  "  singing  robes,"  with  wings  outspread  as  in  the 
fluttered  ecstasy  of  song — is  quite  rare  and  difficult  to  ob- 
tain, from  the  peculiarly  inaccessible  character  of  its  resorts. 
I  recollect  well  the  first  specimen  I  ever  saw — I  came  upon  it 
suddenly  amidst  the  sultry  stillness  of  a  dark,  deep  wood.  I 
was  quite  a  boy,  and  when  I  caught  sight  of  its  dotted  wings 
and  the  strange,  delicate  pink  underneath  its  wings  and 
breast,  my  heart  leaped  with  a  wondering  thrill,  and  the 
same  exquisite  sense  of  strangeness  came  over  me  as  that 
which  fills  our  childhood  at  hearing  some  wondrous  fairy 
tale.  I  believe  I  should  almost  have  died  of  vexation  had 
I  not  finally  succeeded  in  shooting  the  beautiful  stranger  to 
obtain  a  closer  look  at  it.  Ah,  how  I  gazed  and  wondered 
and  wept  as  I  saw  it  close  its  dark  lustrous  eyes,  and  die  in 
my  hand.  It  was  long  before  I  learned  to  place  it.  But  in 
the  case  of  so  rare  a  bird,  I  shall  be  excused  in  quoting  still 
further  from  Mr.  Audubon.  He  says : 

"  I  am  indebted  to  my  friend,  John  Bachman,  for  the  fol- 
lowing information  respecting  this  interesting  Grosbeak: 
1  One  spring  I  shot  at  a  beautiful  male  bird  of  this  species,  in 
the  State  of  New  York.  It  was  wounded  in  one  foot  only. 
and  although  I  could  not  perceive  any  other  injury  after 
wards,  it  fell  from  the  tree  to  the  ground,  and  before  it  re- 
covered itself  I  secured  it.  Not  having  a  cage  at  hand,  I  let 
it  fly  in  the  room  which  I  had  made  my  study.  Before  an 
hour  had  elapsed  it  appeared  as  if  disposed  to  eat ;  it  refused 
corn  and  wheat,  but  fed  heartily  on  bread  dipped  in  milk. 
The  next  day  it  was  nearly  quite  gentle,  and  began  to  ex- 
amine the  foot  injured  by  the  shot,  which  was  much  swollen 
and  quite  black.  It  began  to  bite  off  its  foot  at  the  wounded 
part,  and  soon  succeeded  in  cutting  it  quite  across.  It 
healed  in  a  few  days,  and  the  bird  used  the  mutilated  leg  al- 
most as  well  as  the  other,  perching  and  resting  upon  it.  It 
required  indeed  some  care  to  observe  that  the  patient  had 
been  injured.  I  procured  a  cage  for  it,  to  which  it  imme- 
diately became  reconciled.  It  ate  all  kinds  of  food,  but  pre- 


OUT  OF  DOORS  WITH  NATURE.          331 

ferred  Indian  corn  meal  and  hempseed.  It  appeared  fonder 
of  insects  than  birds  of  that  genus  are  supposed  to  be,  and 
ate  grasshoppers  and  crickets  with  peculiar  relish.  It  would 
at  times  sit  for  hours  watching  the  flies  as  they  passed  about 
it,  and  snatched  at,  and  often  secured  such  wasps  as  now 
and  then  approached  the  pieces  of  fruit  thrown  into  the  cage. 
Very  often,  of  fine  moonshiny  nights,  it  would  tune  its  pipe, 
and  sing  sweetly,  but  not  loudly,  remaining  quietly  perched 
and  in  the  same  position.  Whilst  singing  during  the  day,  it 
was  in  the  habit  of  opening  its  wings  and  gently  raising 
them,  somewhat  in  the  manner  of  the  Mocking  Bird.  I 
found  it  very  difficult  to  preserve  this  bird  during  winter, 
and  was  obliged  for  that  purpose  to  place  it  in  a  room  heated 
by  a  stove  to  summer  temperature.  It  was  a  lively  and  very 
gentle  companion  of  my  study  for  nearly  three  years ;  it  died 
of  cold  the  third  winter.  It  frequently  escaped  from  the 
cage,  but  never  exhibited  the  least  desire  to  leave  me,  for  it 
invariably  returned  to  some  portion  of  the  house  at  the  ap- 
proach of  night.  Its  song  continued  about  six  weeks  during 
summer,  and  about  two  in  the  autumn  ;  at  all  other  times  it 
simply  uttered  a  faint  cluck,  and  seemed  to  possess  many  of 
the  ordinary  habits  of  the  Blue  Grosbeak.'  " 

This  bird  frequents  the  deep  forests  of  the  South,  and  sel- 
dom gets  farther  north  than  Kentucky.  It  is  very  fond  of 
alder-berries,  upon  a  bunch  of  which  my  wife  has  placed  her 
bird. 

What  a  fine  example  of  sound  logic  we  have,  by  the  way, 
in  the  incident  mentioned  above,  of  the  Grosbeak  cutting  off 
its  wounded  toe  with  its  own  sharp  beak.  Could  any  learned 
Professor  of  Surgery,  scalpel  in  hand,  have  managed  his 
own  case  better. 

Here  is  another  anecdote  to  the  same  point,  which  was 
related  to  Mr.  Wilson  concerning  the  Brown  Thrush.  Wil- 
son says: 

"  Concerning  the  sagacity  and  reasoning  faculty  of  this 
bird,  my  venerable  friend,  Mr.  Bartram,  writes  me  as  follows: 


332  wiur  SCENES  ANE  SONG-BIRDS. 

*I  remember  fcMjave  reared  one  of  these  birds  from  the 
nest ;  which,  whep'full  grown,  became  very  tame  and  docile. 
I  frequently  let  ,hirii  out  of  his  cage  to  give  him  a  taste  of 
liberty ;  after  fluttering  and  dusting  himself  in  dry  sand  and 
earth,  and  bathing,  washing  and  dressing  himself,  he  would 
proceed  to  hunt  insects,  such  as  beetles,  crickets,  and  other 
shelly  tribes ;  but,  being  very  fond  of  wasps,  after  catching 
them,  and  knocking  them  about,  to  break  their  wings,  he 
would  lay  them  down,  then  examine  if  they  had  a  sting,  and, 
with  his  bill,  squeeze  the  abdomen  to  clear  it  of  the  reservoir 
of  poison,  before  he  would  swallow  his  prey.  When  in  his 
cage,  being  very  fond  of  dry  crusts  of  bread,  if,  upon  trial, 
the  corners  of  the  crumbs  were  too  hard  and  sharp  for  his 
throat,  he  would  throw  them  up,  carry  and  put  them  in  his 
water  dish  to  soften ;  then  take  them  out  and  swallow  them. 
Many  other  remarkable  circumstances  might  be  mentioned 
that  would  fully  demonstrate  faculties  of  mind,  not  only 
innate,  but  acquired  ideas,  (derived  from  necessity  in  a  state 
of  domestication,)  which  we  call  understanding  and  knowl- 
edge. We  see  that  this  bird  could  associate  those  ideas,  ar- 
range and  apply  them,  in  a  rational  manner  according  to  cir- 
cumstances. For  instance,  if  he  knew  that  it  was  the  hard 
sharp  corners  of  the  crumb  of  bread  that  hurt  his  gullet,  and 
prevented  him  from  swallowing  it,  and  that  the  water  would 
soften  and  render  it  easy  to  be  swallowed,  this  knowledge 
must  be  acquired  by  observation  and  experience ;  or  some 
other  bird  taught.  Here  the  bird  perceived,  by  the  effect, 
the  cause,  and  then  took  the  quickest,  the  most  effectual  and 
agreeable  method  to  remove  that  cause.  What  could  the 
wisest  man  have  done  better  ?  Call  it  reason  or  instinct,  it 
is  the  same  that  a  sensible  man  would  have  done  in  this 
case. 

"  *  After  the  same  manner  this  bird  reasoned  in  respect  to 
the  wasps.  He  found,  by  experience  and  observation,  that 
the  first  he  attempted  to  swallow  hurt  his  throat  and  gave 
him  extreme  pain  ;  and  upon  examination,  observed  that  the 


OUT  OF  DOORS  WITH  NATURE.          333 

extremity  of  the  abdomen  was  armed  with  a  poisonous  sting ; 
and  after  this  discovery,  never  attempted  to  swallow  a  wasp 
until  he  first  pinched  his  abdomen  to  the  extremity,  forcing 
out  the  sting  with  the  receptacle  of  poison.' " 

It  will  be  perceived  that  I  have  here  some  pretty  staunch 
backing  in  regarding  it  as  an  absurdity  to  call  such  plainly 
practical  common -sense  proceedings  instinctive.  Why,  you 
destroy  the  higher  meaning  of  the  most  beautiful  facts  of 
nature  by  levelling  them  all  to  mere  mechanical  and  invol- 
untary impulse.  Pooh,  tell  me  that  the  greeting  of  the 
dainty  Blue  Bird  to  the  opening  spring  is  merely  that  of  a 
little  feathered  music-box,  wound  up  and  set  going !  You 
had  as  well  stigmatize  as  "  machine  rhyming"  the  following 
song,  which  only  a  happy  human  soul,  brimming  over  with 
that -most  tender  and  delicate  inspiration  with  which  God 
fills  his  nobler  children  here  on  earth,  could  have  made 
articulate ! 

Aye  and  verily  it  was  my  chivalric  and  gentle  friend — he 
of  the  valorous  Blue-Bird  heart — Noble  Butler,  Esq.,  of 
Louisville,  Kentucky,  who  did  indite  this  same  song. 

THE  BLUE  BIRD. 

Though  winter's  power  fades  away, 

The  tyrant  does  not  yield ; 
But  still  he  holds  a  waning  sway 

O'er  hill,  and  grove,  and  field. 

But  while  he  still  is  lingering, 

Some  lovely  days  appear — 
Bright  heralds  from  the  train  of  Spring, 

To  tell  that  she  is  near. 

It  is  as  if  a  day  of  heaven 

Had  fallen  from  on  high, 
And  God's  own  smiles,  for  sunlight  given, 

Were  beaming  through  the  sky. 

The  Blue  Bird  now,  with  joyous  note, 
His  song  of  triumph  sings ; 


334  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIRDS. 

Joy  swells  melodious  in  Ms  throat, 
Joy  quivers  in  bis  wings. 

No  cunning  show  of  art  severe, 

But  soft  and  low  his  lay — 
A  sunbeam  shining  to  the  ear — 

Spring's  softest,  brightest  ray. 

Those  magic  tones  call  from  the  past 

The  sunny  hours  of  youth ; 
And  shining  hopes  come  thronging  fast 

From  worlds  of  lore  and  truth. 

The  harmony  is  seen  and  heard ; 

For  notes  and  rays  combine, 
And  joys  and  hopes,  and  sun  and  bird, 

All  seem  to  sing  and  shine. 

Is  not  that  strain  an  JEolian  of  Spirit  Land — a  "  Sunbeam 
shining  to  the  ear"< — than  which  old  Herrick  never  produced 
a  more  dainty  image. 

But  let  us  take  leave  of  these  gentle  recreations  "  out  of 
Doors  with  Nature  "  with  a  bit  of  Khymed  Philosophy  that 
may  have  its  uses  in  reconciling  men  to  our  desultory  mode 
of  treating  such  heretofore  strait-laced  and  science-encrusted 
themes. 

COMMON  NATURE. 

Every  flower  that  bears  an  odor, 
Gives  it  to  the  common  wind, 
Every  star  that  lives  in  beaming 
Sends  a  ray  to  common  mind. 

Scentless  flowers  give  too  their  blessing, 
From  the  splendors  on  their  lips, 
Every  fitful  air  caressing, 
Splendor  out  of  splendor  sips. 

Tuneless  birds  tell  too  their  story- 
Out  on  rustling  glancing  plumes — 
Each  gives  back  the  sun  its  glory, 
When  the  shadow  it  illumes. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

THE  GHOST-FLOWER,  AND  CHILD. 
A  DREAM. 

A  shaded  creature,  dim  and  fair, 
With  thin,  transparent  colors  of  the  gloom ; — 
A  flower-stalagmite,  cold  and  rare, 
Chiseled  b j  Gnomes  of  caverned  air, 
With  dew-sweats  on  it,  gathered  there — 
Then  moon-drawn  upward  into  sudden  bloom. 


I. 

Elfin  are  Wonders — and  Elfin  are  we — • 
Elfin  is  everything  under  the  sea ! — • 

They  know  the  godly,  where  elephants  kneel, 
They  know  ungodly,  where  petty  things  reel- 
Think  him  ungodly  who  knows  but  himself — 
Ah,  ha !  ungodly  is  only  the  Elf  I 

A  Child  comes  forth,  within  his  eyes 
A  mournful  splendor  darkened  lies — 
A  great  Bird  perching  on  his  arm, 
Hears  the  sad  song  that  fain  would  charm 
This  Tom  Todd  of  the  world  to  stay. 
But  Tom  Todd  has  no  time  for  play — 
The  world  and  Tom  Todd  turn  away ! 


386  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIBDS. 


THE  CHILD'S  SONG. 

n. 

Tom  Todd,  Tom  Todd  come  here  ! 
I  have  brought  to  you  a  fierce  bird, — 
Tom  Todd,  come  here  ? — 
Tom  Todd  won't  come ! 

Tom  Todd!  Tom  Todd,  come  here? 
I  have  brought  you  a  bird  that  singeth  so 
Tom  Todd,  come  here  ? — 
Tom  Todd  wont  come ! 

Tom  Todd  !  Tom  Todd,  come  here  ? 
For  this  strange  bird  you  should  hear ! — 
Tom  Todd !  Tom  Todd,  come  here  ?- 
Tom  Todd  wont  come  ! 

Tom  Todd !  Tom  Todd,  come  here? 
Tom  Todd,  I  pray  you  come  here  ? 
IVe  brought  you  a  singing  eagle  ! — 

Tom  Todd,  come  here  ? 

Tom  Todd  wont  come  I — 

Tom  Todd's  a  fool ! 

Tom  Todd,  the  world  is  sad ! — 
He  singeth  on  wing  a  rustling  song, 
And  all  things  fear  him  on  the  ground ; 
He's  fierce,  Tom  Todd,  but  he  is  not  bad. 
He  singeth  chorus  to  the  storms — 
Sings  glory  to  the  upper  air ! 
He  wingeth  fiercely  the  dark  clouds, 
To  break  in  whirling  all  their  shrouds. 
He  floateth  on  the  coming  gleams, 
And  is  the  first  to  feel  the  beams 
That  God  lets  fall  from  yellow  suns. 


THE   GHOST-FLOWER,    AND   CHILD.  337 

He  shakes  the  clouds  that  rain  down  blood. 
All  beautiful,  and  strong,  and  good, 
He  is  the  sky's  bold  robber  still. — • 
When  meaning  of  his  life  you  seek, 
He  vanishes  in  lofty  cloud, 
And  screameth  down  defiance  proud. 
The  clarion  screamer,  high  and  loud — 
The  type  and  note  of  Liberty—- 
Of canquering  struggles  of  the  free — 
He  comes  like  warriors  suddenly ; 

In  fell  and  silent  swoop 

He  comes  so  fell  a-flying, 

It  sounds  most  like  the  sighing 

Of  stricken  roe-buck  dying, 

When  the  feathered  arrow  sped. 
And  then  he  scorns  to  touch  the  dead, 
E'en  though  there  be  much  plunder  there  ; 
He  leaves  it  to  the  vulture  dread 
His  carrion  to  tear  ! 
He  scorneth,  like  the  Lion-cat, 
To  touch  a  prey  he  hath  not  slain, 
It  must  be  won  by  might  and  main — 
He  drinketh  no  cold  blood  like  that ! 
Like  proud,  exulting  Thought,  on  high, 
He  has  strong  wings,  and  why  not  he, 
Be  type  of  all  wild  liberty  ? 
Thoughts  like  him  go  up  toward  heaven, 
And  even  souls  such  wings  are  given, 
And  glory,  beauty,  sunlight  first, 
Are  too  thrown  down  by  him  from  heaven, 
And  yet  of  all  things  winged  the  worst — 
If  bloody  talons,  bloody  beak, 
Are  the  types  by  which  you  speak ! 
And  yet  this  blood  has  set  us  free  ! 
Blood  broke  our  chains  espirituelie, — 
22 


338  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIRDS. 

All  earth  is  bloody,  and  must  be — 
Blood  is  life  and  blood  is  strength, 
Blood  is  glory,  and  at  length 
Must  robe  us  for  Eternity ! 

The  eagle  sings  this  where  the  cataract's  heard, 
And  earth  shivered  and  shaken  is  frightened  sore, 
While  the  water  comes  down  with  a  frown  and  a  roar. 

Tom  Todd  no  more ! — 
I  will  not  tell  you  the  story  I  bore, 
Ye  are  not  worthy  to  hear  such  lore, 
You  have  not  the  thought,  the  heart  or  the  height, 
You  never  will  know  the  strange  power  of  might 
Tom  Todd  won't  come, 
Tom  Todd's  a  fool ! 

in. 

Elfin  are  wonders  and  Elfin  are  we, 
Elfin  is  everything  under  the  sea  ! — 

He  stays  on  the  surface — mocks  at  all  things — 
The  sad  one  who  all  activity  brings — 
He  laughs  and  mocks  us  while  coldly  he  flings 
The  winter  that  comes  of  nightly  decay  ; — • 
Winter  is  lighter  than  thoughts  that  we  know 
There's  no  dull  wretchedness  coupled  with  woe. 

Take  the  Black  Bird  from  me  now, 

There  is  fever  on  my  brow  ! — 

Yes,  the  red  is  on  its  wing — 

And  this  red  good  hope  should  bring ! 

Yes,  and  there  was  yellow  too, 

Yellow  goeth  up  the  blue 

To  where  thrones  of  Power  are  placed — 

Where  no  gentle  thing  erased 

Is  driven  to  a  stupid  Hell 

Of  Bigotrie — 

Where  all  are  free  1 


THE   GHOST-FLOWEE,   AND   CHILD.  389 

0  God !  0  God,  the  world  is  wrong  ! — • 
It  does  not  know  when  men  are  strong. 
"When  its  Prophets  come  there're  slighted — 
Black  Birds  on  their  heads  alighted, 
Scare  them  with  a  shadowy  woe — 
It  should  not  let  its  birds  do  so ! 

0  be  ye  not  despairing  yet, 

Thou  child  of  sorrows  and  regret, — 

For  God  will  send  a  golden  hope, 

From  out  his  gladder  radiance, 

E're  he  shall  call  thee,  calmly  hence  ! 

Be  not  all  hopeless  when  the  world 
Is  sadder  still  than  your  despair  ! 
Wait  till  the  evil  wings  are  furled, 
And  joy  and  gladness  rule  the  air  ! 

Darkness  is  not  all  forlorn 
Light  sleeps  in  it  till  the  morn, 
God  is  light — and  light  is  Love, 

Go  poor  souls  and  live  and  love ! 
O  be  patient  till  the  light 
Cometh  to  thee  from  the  Dawn, 
God  yet  lives  for  the  forlorn  ! 

Thou  art  unhappy — yet  of  men 
Thou  art  not  the  only  bowed, 
The  poor  are  rotting  vermin-clad — 

Life  decaying  in  its  shroud  ! 
Ah  why  shouldst  thou,  then,  still  be  sad, 
Up  and  work  ! — redeem  the  sod, 
Labor  is  the  way  to  God ! 

God  is  motion,  stars  and  light ! 
God  is  all  that  e're  was  bright ! 
God  is  all  that  e're  was  fairy  ! 
God  is  all  that  e're  was  airy  !— 


340  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIEDS. 

God  is  all  beneficent, 
God  is  all  by  whom  we're  sent 
His  high  behests  from  Faith  to  draw 
And  out  of  mystery  find  the  law  ! 

The  tender  and  the  virtuous  souls, 
They  feel  the  way  a  bad  world  rolls ; — 
They  write  on  many  a  sacred  slip 
What  shall  not  come  from  saintly  lip  ; — 
They  look  to  thoughts  that  men  ne'er  saw, 
And  struggle  with  a  holiest  awe — 
And  struggle  with  a  solemn  shade ; 
For  nature  gives  all  solemn  things  ; 
From  nature  all  goes  up  on  wings — 
Most  like  the  thought  of  passive  death, 
Like  one  who  fears  no  loss  of  breath, 
Like  one  who  goeth,  as  flowers  die, — 
Exhaling  Beauty  up  the  sky  ! 

The  wings  !  the  wings  I  O  give  us  wings ! 

The  world  has  hurt  us  so, 
The  world !  the  world  is  full  of  wo  ! 

"Wings !  let  us,  let  us  go ! 

The  world !  the  world,  how  hard  and  drear ! 
The  world !  the  world,  it  will  not  hear ! 

O  give  us  wings  and  let  us  go  ! — 

The  world  has  hurt  us  so — 

Go  where  a  singing  place  is  found, 
Where  birds  need  not  their  wings, 

Where  Tom  Todd  never  yet  has  frowned 
Upon  all  lovely  things. 

IV. 

Elfin  are  wonders  and  Elfin  are  we, 
Elfin  is  everything  under  the  sea. 

Soothing  wretchedness — making  earth  bright! 
Winter ! — sound  thee,  for  once  a  delight ! 


THE  GHOST-FLOWEK,   AND   CHILD.  341 

Somebody  comes  and  cometh  in  might ; 
Ah  winter !  winter !  there  cometh  in  chase 
A  Power  more  strong  than  thou  canst  embrace, 
For  beauty  and  violets  bloom  in  the  race  ! 

Gentle  Bird !  gentle  Bird,  come  from  the  sun, 

The  blue  on  your  back  and  sky  are  as  one  ! 

Gentle  Bird !  gentle  Bird,  come  ye  to  day 

To  tell  me  of  pardon — then  go  away  ! 

Gentle  Bird  !  gentle  Bird !  why  is  it  so 

You  and  I  struggle  through  such  a  dark  woe  ? 

Dreary,  ah  dreary  the  front  of  the  Earth, 

Gentle  Bird  tell  me  why  pity  is  dearth  ? 

Gentle  Bird  !  gentle  Bird !  know  they  thy  song  ? 

Gentle  Bird  !  say  is  it  they  that  are  wrong  ? 

Gentle  Bird  tell  me  then — tell  me  how  long 

The  good  God  lets  us  go  scorning  the  wrong  ? 

Gentle  Bird  !  gentle  Bird !  tell  me  how  long 

"Will  sad  things  be  humble  and  bad  things  be  strong  ? 

Will  virtue  be  poor,  yet  go  yearning  ? 

Will  vice  have  great  store  yet  go  earning — 
Earning  of  weak  ones  still  more  ? 
Tell  it  me,  gentle  bird,  I  so  yearn  for  thy  lore. 

Must  greatest  strength,  then,  crush  the  meekest  ? 

Must  greatest  length,  then,  bend  the  more  ? 
The  greatest  height,  be  all  the  bleakest — 

And  the  greatest  hearts — be  they  most  sore  ? 
Must  the  brightest  flowers  God  gave  the  hours, 
Eeach  our  sad  eyes  through  evil  powers  ? 
Tell  me,  then,  gentle  bird,  why  is  it  so  ? 

You  twitter,  and  twitter,  and  twitter  a  song, 

Art  thou  never  cold — is  the  day  never  long  ? 

Do  never  Hawks  haunt  thee  and  Eagles  scream  loud  ? 

Croak  Ravens  no  Portent — see  ye  no  leaf  shroud  ? 

Doth  thy  bright  eye  quail — or  thy  little  heart  fail 

When  rustling  by  thee,  they  heavily  sail  ? 


342  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONG-BIRDS. 

Talks  not. the  tempests  too  raging  and  loud 

When  your  delicate  form  to  the  leafy  twig  clings  ? — 

And  is  there  no  hurricane-death  where  it  sings  ? 

Art  never  fearful  where  the  hoarse  beasts  do  growl  ? 

Is  your  little  heart  with  you  when  the  gray  wolves  do  howl  ? 

Is  Panther  your  choice  when  his  sweet  voice  comes  out  ? 

Or  dost  sing  when  soft-wing'd  owls  are  about  ? 

When  they  hoot  in  answer  to  savages'  whoop — 

While  making  dark  ravages  with  silent  swoop — 

And  snapping  their  horny  beaks  in  that  dull  gloom, 

Do  they  scare  thee  with  thoughts  of  too  warm  a  tomb, 

Beneath  yellow  light  from  their  great  staring  eyes  ? 

Is  it  where  things  are  gentle,  night  murder  flies  ? 

Have  angels'  bright  songs  any  sweeter  than  thine — 

Or  angel  art  thou,  then,  my  sweet  bird,  in  fine  ? 

Thy  notes  are  too  mellow  for  coarse  words  of  mine, 
Thou  art  braver  than  conqueror  of  any  bad  li ne ; 
Thou  sing'st  midst  terrors  a  sad  world  to  refine ; 
The  hiss  and  the  horror,  the  howl  and  the  roar 
When  thy  song  is  triumphing  saddens  no  more  ; 
Tell  me  then,  gentle  bird,  how  can  you  sing  so  ? 

Ye  twitter,  and  twitter,  and  twitter  a  song, 
But  will  the  world  let  ye  go  twittering  long  ? — 
While  killing  the  gentle  and  pampering  wrong, 
They  go  for  cowards  and  the  brutes  that  are  strong ; 

Mean  ye  a  time  of  lofty  story, 

Mean  ye  a  time  of  peaceful  glory  ? 

Mean  ye  a  time  when  hope  shall  see 

A  thought  and  a  deed  of  benignity  ? 

When  twittereth,  twittereth  that  small  song, 

Bring'st  thou  the  graces  and  flowers  along  ? 

Art  thou  an  aeolian  joy  from  on  high, 

That  cometh  here  singing  that  men  may  not  die  ? 

Knowest  thou  aught  that  is  gentle  and  good 


THE  GHOST-FLOWEB,   AND  CHILD.  343 

That  might  makes  us  happy,  if  happy  we  would — 
Since  the  good  God  came  in  that  ancient  flood  ? 
Tell  me,  gentle  bird,  tell  it  to  me, 
I  long  for  thy  lore  so  exceedingly. 

V. 

Elfin  are  wonders,  and  elfin  are  we — 
Elfin  is  everything  under  the  sea  : 

They  come  as  an  arrow,  go  as  a  thought ; 

Space  is  too  narrow,  when  they  would  be  sought. 

They  come  at  no  bidding,  speed  at  no  will — 

Yet  ever  go  ridding  earth  of  some  ill  1 

They  bless  and  they  curse — they  heal  and  destroy, 

Their  good  may  seem  worse  than  ill  they  employ ! 

From  cavern's  dark  fountain,  the  spring  on  the  lea — 

From  Eagle-kept  mountain  they  never  shall  flee. 


Like  a  beautiful  thing, 

"With  golden  wing, 
That  comes  from  where  suns  are  lit ; 

Like  a  beautiful  thing, 

With  silver  wing, 
That  comes  from  where  moon-birds  sit ; 

Like  a  shadowy  thing, 

With  dim-spread  wing, 
That  comes  from  where  dream-birds  flit. 

Like  an  ominous  thing, 

With  boding  wing, 
That  comes  on  plumes  of  the  night, 

And  yet  doth  bring, 

On  boding  wing, 
A  ray  of  the  golden  light ! 

Like  a  singing  thing, 
With  purple  wing, 


344  WILD  SCENES  AND  SONGKBIKDS. 

'That  comes  whence  orient  stars  do  spring — 
That  cometh  in  burnish  of  silver  and  gold, 
Through  shining  mists,  to  tell  as  of  old, 
The  story  the  lowly  flowers  have  told, 
How  Hope  was  pinioned,  in  glory,  to  fling 
The  dawn  of  her  future  on  every  high  thing  ! 

Like  a  meek-eyed  thing, 
"With  wing  all  blue, 

That  comes  from  a  Temple  where  hearts  are  true — 
That  comes  from  a  Temple  so  vast, 
That  when  at  last 

Earth  goes  like  a  dot, 
There  lives  not  an  archangel 

Can  tell  you  the  spot 
"Where  the  poor  thing  should  dwell ! 

Like  a  glorious  thing, 

"With  scarlet  wing, 

That  flashing  doth  dazzle  mortal  eye — 
That  soaring,  and  soaring,  still  soaring  doth  sing, 
God  is  gleamed  off  from  my  flashing  wing, 
See  him,  poor  mortal,  though  blinded,  and  sing. 
God  sent  his  Justice  a  right  hand  to  stain 
In  the  blood  of  a  Christ,  that  ye  might  remain 
To  work  out  his  glory,  and  cease  from  all  pain. 

Till  sorrow  and  sadness, 

Horror  and  madness, 

Give  way  to  gladness 

And  cherubic  strain ! 
Joy !  0  Joy  !  then  as  Winter  must  go, 
Spring  must  be  coming  for  poor  souls  below  1 


Cufntual 


American  Song  Thrush— Turdus  Melodus 2,  190,  327 

American  Swift — Cypselus  Pclasgius 324 

Baltimore  Oriole — Icterus  Baltimore , 30 

Blue  Grosbeak — Fringilla  Ccerulea 329 

Bob'o  Lank  or  Rice  Bird — Icterus  Agripennis 4,  9 

Blue  'Bird— Sylvia  Sialis 84,  328 

Bird  of  Washington— Falco  Washingtonii 267,  287 

Bald  Eagle— Falco  Leucocephalus 298,  301 

Bee  Martin — Muscicapa  Tyranus 264 

Blue  Martin — Hirundo  Purpurea 325 

Bullfinch— Lucia  Pyrrhula 307 

Blue  or  Canada  Crane — Grus  Americana 323 

Cat  Bird — Turdus  Felivox 4,  328,  274 

California  Jay — Cyanocorax  Luxuosus 188 

Crow — Corvus  Americana 19 

Caracara  Eagle — Polyborus  Vulgaris 266 

Canada  Jay — Corvus  Canadcnsis 1 87 

California  Woodpecker — Melanerpes  Formicivorus 188 

Crane,  Canada 323 

Falcon,  Jer — Falco  Islandicus 295 

Falcon,  Singing 255 

Eagles 233,  154 

"  Golden — Falco  Chrysaetos 241 

"  White  Headed 258 

"  Brazilian , 266 

"  Washington.... 267,  287 

"  Sea.—Haliaetus  Pelagicus 292,  296 

English  Song  Thrush— Turdus  Musicus 208.  209 


346  TECHNICAL  INDEX. 

Page 

Goldfinch 161 

Golden  Eagle 258 

Grosbeak,  Blue 329 

Grosbeak  Scarlet— Fringilla  Cardinalis 3,  199,  329 

Grouse,  Pinnated — Tetrao  Gupido 26,  158 

Ghost-flower — Monotropa   Unijiora 335 

Humming  Bird 98 

"  Emerald 108 

"  Ruby  Throated — Trochilus  Colubris 110 

"  Ruffled  or  Nootka  Sound — Trochilus  Rufus 122 

Hawks 287 

"  Fish— Falco  Haliaetus 265 

Indigo  Bird — Fringilla  Cyanea 4 

Jay,  Blue — Corvus  Cristatus 180 

"  Canada 187 

"  California 188 

Jer  Falcon 295 

Lark,  Meadow — Sturnus  Ludovicianus 3,  325 

"     Sky 169 

Loggerhead  Shrike — Lanius  Ludovicianus 96 

Mexican  Eagle 266 

Meadow  Lark 3,  325 

Magpie 188 

Martin,  Blue 325 

Martin,  Bee 264 

Mocking  Bird— Turdus  Polyglottus 2,  4,  32,  35,  163,  203,  332 

Nightingale — Sylvia  Luscinia 7, 16,  21 1 

Nootka  Sound  Humming  Bird 123 

Oriole,  Baltimore 30 

"       Orchard 2,  12,  325 

Ostriches 320 

Partridge  or  Ruffled  Grouse — Tetrao   Umbellus 4 

Pinnated  Grouse  or  Prairie  Hen — Tetrao  Cupido 21,  158 

Painted  Finch — Fringilla  Ciris 311 

Robin — Turdus  Migratorius 2,  176,  1 98,  325 

Ruffled  Humming  Bird 122 


TECHNICAL  INDEX.  347 

Page 
Ruby  Throated — " 110 

Scarlet  Grosbeak 3,  199,  329 

Song  Sparrow — Fringilla  Melodia   4,  328 

Shrike,  Loggerhead 96 

"     Great  Cinereous — Lanius  Excubitor 90 

Sea  Eagle 292  296 

Sky  Lark — Alaudct  Arvensis 169 

Singing  Falcon 254 

Swan 267 

Swift,  American 324 

Thrush  English  Song 203,  209 

"     American  Song, 2,  190,  327 

Thrasher — Orpheus  Rufus 4,  331,  174 

Wren,  House — Troglodytes  (Edon 3,  327 

Woodpecker,  California 188 


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